Ashes & Dust
by blucougar57
Summary: A brutal and senseless attack leaves the Torchwood team reeling, and has potentially deep-cutting consequences for one member in particular.
1. A Grim Discovery

A/N: Okay, I finally decided to take a plunge and post this story here

A/N: Okay, I finally decided to take a plunge and post this story here. Effectively, very dark ride. VERY dark. It's set post _Last of the Time Lords_, but doesn't particularly fit in with the stream of new season 2 episodes. The closest I can offer is that it is set after "Meat", but before "Reset". "Adam" pretty much doesn't factor into it, because none of the team remember those two days anyway. I don't know exactly where this story is going, exactly, so just sit down, buckle up and hang on...

Please keep in mind that as far as Jack's miraculous healing abilities are concerned, I am clinging ferociously to what was said at the end of _Cyberwoman_, that non-lethal wounds will not heal as fast.

Rating: Strong 'M', borderline NC-17. This story contains allusions to non-con sex, torture and ongoing mental and emotional trauma, not to mention considerable emotional angst for all characters concerned.

Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood, its characters, or John Barrowman or Gareth David-Lloyd. More's the pity. I have no money, suing me would get you nowhere.

* * *

Detective Kathy Swanson approached the cordoned-off area grimly, mentally psyching herself to face what she had already been warned was a brutal crime scene. A slight shudder swept through her. She had been with CID Cardiff now for close to five years, and she still had yet to fully adjust to scenes like this one.  
Pack assault, she'd been told on the way over. Suspected multiple offenders and one victim who was apparently very lucky to be alive. Nothing had been said, but Swanson strongly suspected the victim had suffered some degree of sexual assault, if not outright rape.

Now was not the time to speculate, though. She had a scene to investigate, and a victim to see.

The ambulance sat stationary as she walked over to it, and was a little surprised to find it empty. Turning, she spotted a uniform and walked across to him.

"Constable, where are the paramedics?"

"Still inside, Ma'am."

Sighing inwardly, she headed into the building to see just what was going on.

* * *

She was met inside by one of her own colleagues, a detective by the name of Crowe.

"Alan," she greeted him. "What's happening? I heard the paramedics are still in there."

"Yeah, they are. You aren't gonna believe this..."

She frowned at the incredulous tone of his voice.

"I'm not going to believe what? What are you talking about?"

"The victim, Kathy. It's..."

He was cut off by a sudden, strangled howl of pain from the next room, and he spoke grimly in explanation when she looked at him in horror.

"It's why they haven't taken him out of here yet. He wasn't just tied up. The sick fuckers wrapped his wrists and ankles with barbed wire. Even gagged him with it, too. He's a real mess, worse than anything I've ever seen. They're still trying to get the stuff off him. I'm telling you, Kathy, I don't care how much Cardiff Police hate him. No one deserves to have done what's been done to him. No one."

Swanson felt a chill settle in her gut. Crowe was speaking collectively about the Cardiff Police, and there was only one man in Cardiff who was collectively hated by the Cardiff Constabulary. Striding past him, she pushed into the room, and found herself confronted with an horrendous sight.

There was blood spattered everywhere in the room, covering both the walls and the floor. Her attention was quickly drawn to the naked figure on the bed. As Crowe had said, his wrists and ankles were bound not with rope, but with barbed wire that was secured to each end of the bed.

That, however, was only the start of the abuse he'd suffered.

The man's body was covered from head to toe in cuts, bruises and other such injuries. He was virtually one great open wound, and Swanson couldn't help but wonder that he was still alive at all.

Someone came up beside her, and she looked around to see yet another colleague standing there. It was Derek Lloyd, a smug son of a bitch that neither she nor anyone else in CID had any liking for. Even now, she could detect a hint of a smirk on his face, and she braced herself for some innately inappropriate remark. He didn't disappoint her.

"What's that saying, Kathy? The bigger they are, the harder they fall. And here's one big son of a bitch that's fallen pretty damn hard, don't you think?"

She rounded on him angrily, infuriated by his callousness, and the pleasure she could hear in his voice.

"You think this is funny, Lloyd? You think it's funny to see a fellow human in this state, being treated like this?"

"Well, no, but..."

"But nothing, you sorry sack of shit. Get the hell out of here, right now. Go!"

He went, visibly angry. Swanson watched him go before turning back to the victim on the dirty mattress; to the infamous Captain Jack Harkness.

The first time she had laid eyes on Jack Harkness, he had audaciously asked her if she'd prefer him naked. Now, he was naked and it was no joking matter for either one of them. She edged closer, looking over his naked form with a discomfort that she hadn't experienced since her early days as a police constable.

Nothing had been left to the imagination. He lay on his back, completely exposed to the prying eyes of all and sundry. His arms were stretched painfully over his head and his legs pulled cruelly towards the bottom corners of the bed. As Crowe had said, it was not rope that held him down, but barbed wire that tore horribly into his flesh.

Even worse, as Crowe had warned her, the torturous metal had been used as a gag, jammed into his mouth with the barbs puncturing his cheeks and tearing his lips and tongue to bloody shreds. In a twisted way, it was a far more effective gag than any kind of soft material, for Jack could not move his mouth without the barbs ripping into his flesh even worse than they already had.

It was, she decided with a sickening wave of nausea, the cruellest thing she'd ever seen.

Slowly, she became aware of Jack's eyes on her. She stared at him, and fancied she could almost hear him begging her to give him a little bit of dignity. In the end, she could honestly say it was the very real agony that she could see in his eyes that drove her to act.

"All right," she snapped loudly. "I want everyone out of here who isn't essential personnel. Rescue workers and EMTs only. Move it, people!"

They filed out with some reluctance, until only the paramedics and Detective Swanson were left. Then, and only then, did she go to the bedside, crouching down beside the stricken man. He couldn't turn his head to look at her, but his eyes followed her as she crouched there.

"How in the name of all things sacred did you manage to get yourself into a situation like this?" she asked softly, knowing full well that he was incapable of answering.

His eyes strained to keep her in sight — the only part of his body that he seemed to be able to move without pain. As she watched, a single tear formed in the corner of his eye, and rolled unchecked down the side of his face. Detective Swanson felt a clutch of empathy, and reached across to brush her fingertips soothingly across his temple.

"We're going to get you out of here, Jack, I promise you. Just bear with us, okay, sweetheart?"

Even through the sheer agony he was in, she didn't miss the amusement that flashed all too briefly in his eyes at the term of endearment. She couldn't help it, though. Right then, she didn't see him as the arrogant and secretive captain of Torchwood, but rather as the victim of a cruel and vicious assault.

She looked across at the paramedics, her mind filled with concern for Jack's wellbeing.

"We need to get him out of here."

"We know, Detective," one of them answered. "Problem is that the wire has been wrapped so tight, it's going to have to be surgically removed, and the way it's fixed to the bed doesn't make it easy for us to just cut it. It's pulled so tight, that it could snap back and hit one of us… or him. Then, on top of that, it's gonna hurt him like hell, and we can't give him anything for the pain in case it sends him into shock."

She looked back to Jack, into his pain-filled eyes. Reaching across, she oh so gently touched his bloodied fingers with hers, taking care not to use any greater pressure for fear of hurting him. He seemed incapable of even the simple task of flexing his fingers, and she wondered suddenly what sort of nerve damage the barbed wire might have done.

"Listen to me, Jack," she told him softly. "They're going to cut you free as carefully as they can, but it's really going to hurt, so you need to try and brace yourself, okay?"

Another tear escaped his bruised eye, and he managed a single blink. She looked up at the paramedics, one of whom was holding the metal cutters, ready to do the deed. She transferred her hand to the top of his head, ensuring that he was still able to feel her presence through the painful procedure.

"He's ready. Do it."

* * *

Later on, she would admit that Jack's strangled screams of pain were some of the worst she'd ever heard, and it had left her badly shaken. She didn't give in to her desire to flee, though, and stayed right there beside him, keeping that connection through her hand resting gently on his head.

Mercifully, Jack lost consciousness, either from shock or pain, just as they were starting to cut loose the wire that was binding his right ankle. From there, they moved quickly to cut the rest of the wire, and then Jack was lifted with care onto a waiting gurney, and rushed out to the waiting ambulance.

"Has anyone tried to contact Torchwood?" she asked Crowe as the forensics team moved back in to start their examination. Crowe answered with a quick nod. He was looking a little green around the gills, she thought, and she didn't blame him one bit. She wasn't feeling particularly settled in the stomach herself.

"Yeah, we tried," Crowe said. "Harkness must've given his people the holiday off. All our calls were diverted to his mobile phone."

Swanson sighed.

"And we have no other way to find them. I don't even know the names of his people. Just that one woman whose car we were tracking for him... Cooper, I think it was."

Crowe snorted.

"And it's not as if that's a common name," he retorted.

"I know, I know. Can't even check our records. Torchwood wiped them on us after that other business. There's no one at all that we can call for him."

"Are you going to go to the hospital, then?" Crowe wondered.

Swanson nodded.

"Yes. Hopefully I'll be able to talk to him, and start making sense of this nightmare."

Crowe snorted.

"The man was gagged with barbed wire, Kathy. How much talking do you think he's going to do?"

She shook her head.

"I don't know. I have to try, though. And besides, he doesn't have anyone else to be there for him."

A wry smile touched Crowe's lips.

"You're a softie, you know that?"

She had no chance to respond to that in the way she would have liked, as another voice called out to her.

"Detective Swanson!"

She looked around as a uniform approached.

"What is it, then?" she asked, with just a hint of impatience.

"On the other side of the building, Detective. We found the Torchwood SUV."

* * *

The SUV had been locked away in a garage on the other side of the run-down building. The driver's side window was cracked with blood visible on the glass, suggesting that someone had perhaps had their face slammed into it.

"Harkness' face was pretty badly cut up," Crowe mused as they examined the vehicle. "I'll bet when forensics check, they'll find this is his blood."

Swanson didn't respond immediately. Her focus was on other evidence that was in the back of the car.

"Looks like he might have been ambushed elsewhere, and brought here. They may have stripped him here... Those must be his clothes. I recognise that coat of his."

"Blood stains," Crowe mused, leaning in for a look of his own. Swanson frowned, spotting something in amongst the pile of apparently ruined clothes.

"Alan, could you go and try those numbers for Torchwood again?"

"Uh... Sure."

He gave her an odd look, but headed out nonetheless to do as she asked. Once he was gone, she leaned into the vehicle and carefully plucked Jack's brown leather wrist strap out of the pile. As much as she knew she shouldn't mess with evidence, something told her that this was one item that couldn't be allowed to fall into anyone else's hands. slipping it into her coat pocket, she took one last look around before hurrying back out into the gloomy Cardiff day.

* * *

It took her another hour to make it to the hospital, only to be told on arrival that Jack was currently in surgery to have the barbed wire removed, and to fix his right arm which was apparently very badly broken. She recalled having a passing thought that his arm had appeared to be bent unnaturally, but other concerns had overridden that at the time. The nurse at the administration desk told her kindly that it would be another half hour or more before the surgeon was finished, and if she liked she could wait in a private room.

In the end, she chose to remain in the public waiting area, if only so that she could watch other people coming and going, and not feel completely cut off from reality. She seated herself in a corner of the waiting room, and fell to reflecting on her colleagues' attitudes towards Jack.

Crowe, despite being vocal in his personal loathing of Torchwood in general and Jack Harkness in particular, had still been horrified by the crime committed against the Torchwood leader. As he'd said, no one deserved to go through what Jack had experienced. She, for one, didn't even want to try and imagine the agony he must have been in.

A small, bitter smile crossed her lips fleetingly. What she had witnessed that morning had instilled in her a new sense of respect for the Captain. She imagined it would have been all too easy for him to simply give in to the shock of what had been done to him, and die. She had, after all, seen others die of lesser injuries — killed by the shock and pain of their injuries, rather than the injuries themselves. The fact that Jack not only fought those effects, but stayed conscious right to the last, was definitely worth extra points in her opinion.

It was a pity, she mused, that not all of her colleagues were willing to afford the same respect. Lloyd, she reflected with some anger, had been nauseatingly smug. That son of a bitch had actually taken pleasure in seeing Jack not only hurt, but also humiliated by the exposed and compromising position he'd been left in by his attackers. No doubt the bastard would be talking it up with his mates even now. She could only hope that most of them would ignore him.

It was a slim hope.

Swanson shook her head, trying to erase from her mind the image of Jack that was burned into it — Jack naked, beaten and tortured, humiliated and suffering pain beyond what she suspected most people were capable of tolerating. Their past encounters were a non-issue now. She wouldn't wish what had happened to him on anyone.

She glanced up, watching tiredly as a group of a dozen or so people suddenly piled through the doors into the waiting room, guiding a young woman who was obviously in labour. For a brief moment she allowed herself to be distracted by the sight of the woman and her excited family, and a sad smile touched her face.

It must be nice, she thought wistfully, to be involved in new life like that, unlike the constant death she was always confronted by. Her one consolation was that Jack was apparently in no danger of dying. Although, she couldn't help but wonder whether he might later wish he had died, once he had to fully face what had been done to him.

She watched as the mother-to-be was taken off in a wheelchair, along with a man whom she supposed was the father. The rest of the family collapsed into chairs nearby, chattering quietly but excitedly.

"Excuse me, Detective Swanson?"

She looked around to find a doctor standing there. He offered a kindly, if somewhat tired smile.

"I was told you were waiting on news about Jack Harkness."

Nearby, one of the group who had come in with the pregnant woman looked around sharply at the mention of that name. Oblivious to the sudden, extra attention, Swanson nodded and rose up to meet him.

"Yes. Is he out of surgery?"

"About fifteen minutes ago, yes. He's just being moved to a private room now."

"How is he doing? Will he be all right?"

The doctor hesitated for just a fraction of a second before speaking soberly.

"Perhaps you should come with me, Detective. We'll talk somewhere a little more private."

Swanson nodded and, trying to quash her growing unease, she followed him from the waiting room.

* * *

_tbc..._


	2. Shock, Served With A Dose of Guilt

Truth be told, Ianto was torn over whether it was a good or a bad thing that his sister in-law had gone into labour on Christmas Day. People always got excited about "Christmas babies", but he knew what was likely to happen. For years to come, the poor child would be told the same thing.

"Since your birthday is on Christmas Day, we decided we'd just give you one special present…"

Combined celebrations, combined gifts… combined everything.  
He said nothing, though, unwilling to do anything to put a dampener on his family's enthusiasm. And so, it was as he was only paying cursory attention to the excited speculation over the baby's gender, that he heard a voice speak behind him.

"I was told you were waiting on news about Jack Harkness."

Ianto's head snapped around so fast that it was a wonder he didn't give himself whiplash. Nearby was the woman that he recognised as Detective Swanson, the detective who had helped them out when Suzie's carefully crafted plans had left them locked inside the Hub. He watched as she stood up to meet the doctor who stood there, and listened with sudden attentiveness as she spoke.

"Yes," Ianto heard her say. "Is he out of surgery?"

A chill of fear swept down through Ianto's body. Jack simply being in the hospital created enough complications. For him to have actually needed surgery was plainly frightening.  
He was standing up almost before he realised it, even as the doctor led the detective from the waiting room.

"Ianto? Where are you going?"

It was his sister who had spoken, and the question promptly brought him to the attention of everyone in their group.

"Just going to the bathroom," he said, displaying an outward calm that he certainly didn't feel. "Back in a minute."

He walked quickly away before they could ask anymore questions. He was almost to the doors when it occurred to him that he didn't know where to find Jack — if, indeed, it really was his Jack.

Two thoughts occurred to him simultaneously. The first was that it was highly unlikely that there was any other Jack Harkness in Cardiff. The second was that he had just consciously thought of the man as 'his Jack'. That, he realised numbly, was painfully at odds with the shameful way he had treated Jack over the last week, over spending Christmas with him and his family.

When Ianto had extended the invitation, in all honesty he had expected Jack to refuse. Time and time again, he recalled Jack insisting that he would never be 'domesticated'. That, however, had been before Jack had disappeared. The man who had come home to them… to him… was a different man, and this new and improved Jack Harkness had jumped eagerly at the offer to spend Christmas with Ianto's family.

Ianto, however, had had steadily growing reservations ever since extending the invitation.

His parents and his siblings, so far as he knew, had no clue as to his bisexuality, and the truth was that he was afraid to tell them. They were staunch Catholics, and his parents in particular hung on the Pope's ever word as though it came from God Himself. He dreaded their reaction, and that was just putting it mildly.

When he'd initially told them that he wanted invited Jack, he had given the excuse that 'he's the boss, and he doesn't have anywhere else to go'. The word 'boyfriend' had not entered into the equation. It wasn't until later, when Ianto had told Jack and Jack had responded by kissing him with enough passion to make Oscar Wilde blush, that Ianto had suddenly started to think that his well-intentioned gesture was, in fact, a monumental mistake.  
And so, after nearly a week of stewing in his worries and fears, Ianto had finally done something that he was now inordinately ashamed of. He had withdrawn the invitation.

He had tried to be diplomatic about it, of course, and make it seem as though there was nothing personal about it. There had been changes in the family plans, he'd told Jack, all the while trying desperately to ignore the disappointment on his lover's face. Jack had appeared to be understanding and amicable about it, but in the end Ianto knew that he understood perfectly well what hadn't been spoken out loud.

Ianto had tried to tell himself that it didn't matter, and that he'd make it up to Jack later. He'd almost convinced himself of that, but something that happened the day before, on Christmas Eve, made him realise with a horrible jolt just how much he really had hurt Jack.

On his way out, he had been surprised to discover a small, beautifully wrapped gift on the seat of his car. He'd been confused, because they had all exchanged gifts earlier in the day and he had received something from each one of them, Jack included. His gift from the Captain, far from the suggestive and somewhat lewd gifts the others had received, had been a stunning pair of solid silver cufflinks, with a matching diamond-encrusted tie clip. It was simple, and yet incredibly thoughtful. Ianto had been deeply touched, and a little embarrassed that his gift to Jack had consisted of a selection of new sex toys.

Oh, Jack had made a big deal of it, throwing out dirty suggestions left, right and centre on how he could best put the new toys to use, but more than once over the course of the rest of the day, Ianto had spotted a look on the other man's face that suggested he was nowhere near as happy as he made out to be. The looks were fleeting, and always vanished with lightning speed as soon as Jack realised Ianto was looking at him, but Ianto knew he hadn't been mistaken.

And then, the gift had appeared on the seat of his car.

There had been a card attached, and Ianto had found himself reading words that had brought tears to his eyes.

_My dear Ianto, I've had this gift for you for weeks, but I didn't know if you'd want it now. I don't know what I've done, or haven't done, but I just hope you'll give me a chance to fix it. I'm backing off now, because that's obviously what you want, but maybe when Christmas is over, you'll let me take you out, and we can talk this through. In the meantime, I hope you'll accept this gift. It's what I'd always intended to give you, but I didn't want to embarrass you in front of the others, and that's why I gave you the cufflinks and tie clip. Although, if you want something more on the lewd side, you know you only need to ask... Anyway, I hope you have a great Christmas with your family.  
Love, your Jack._

Ianto's practised eye spotted a slight waver on the word family, and felt his heart clench almost painfully as he began to wonder just how much Jack really had been looking forward to not spending Christmas alone. He'd then unwrapped the gift to discover a brand new stopwatch, immaculate in silver and gold. On the back there was an inscription.

_For my dearest Ianto. You made my life worth living again. Yours always, Jack._

Watch clutched in his hand, Ianto had virtually sprinted back down into the Hub, fully intending to find Jack, blurt out the truth and beg him to come with him after all, but he was too late. According to Tosh, who was just getting ready to leave herself (Owen and Gwen had both left nearly an hour beforehand), Jack had taken off almost within seconds of Ianto heading out, taking the SUV.

Ianto had spent the rest of that evening trying desperately to reach Jack, to no avail. In the end, he went to his parents' home with nothing but family gifts, a cheesecake and a guilty conscience. Now, that lingering guilt was tinged with fear. If something had happened to Jack because of his foolishness, he didn't think he would ever forgive himself.

Deciding to play it officially, Ianto pulled his Torchwood ID out as he approached the counter.

"Torchwood," he stated firmly, with a confidence that, right then, he honestly didn't have. "I'm here for Jack Harkness."

He could feel the eyes of his family drilling into his back, and he studiously ignored them. The nurse nodded and spoke in a sympathetic tone that sent fresh chills through him.

"Oh, I'm glad they were able to find one of you for him. The condition that poor man was in..."

"Can I see him?" Ianto asked, starting to feel seriously ill. She consulted her monitor with a frown before nodding.

"Yes, I think so. Although, you're Torchwood. I guess it wouldn't matter even if I said no. You'd probably just take yourself up there anyway, wouldn't you?"

"Please," Ianto said tensely. "Where can I find him?"

"Oh, right. Sorry. Yes, he's just been moved from Recovery into a room on his own. You'll find him in room 16, the Davidson Ward, Level Three."

Ianto went, and was only barely able to stop himself from running. When he finally arrived at the room, he wasn't sure whether to be relieved or not to find Detective Swanson just outside the door with the doctor. As he approached, they both turned to look at him.

"Let me guess," Swanson said quietly. "You're with Torchwood."  
Ianto nodded.

"That's right."

She frowned a little.

"Didn't you come in with that group that brought in the pregnant woman?"

Again, Ianto answered with a nod.

"Yes, that's my sister in-law. I overheard you talking, and heard Jack's name mentioned. The nurse at the reception desk directed me up here." He glanced uneasily at the door they were currently blocking. "If you don't mind, I'd like to see my Captain."

Swanson walked over to him, then.

"What's your name?"

"Ianto Jones, Detective."

"Okay, Ianto. Come over here and have a seat. I think I need to make you aware of a few things before you go in there."

Ianto sat reluctantly. He desperately wanted to go in to see Jack, but a deeper instinct warned him to wait, and hear what the detective had to say.

"What happened to him?" Ianto asked softly as she sat beside him. "I assume it's something serious, because otherwise he would never have allowed himself to be brought to hospital."

"I'll tell you what I can," she answered. "Or at least, what we've been able to determine from the evidence so far. We don't have all the details yet, and we won't have until your captain is capable of speaking again."

Ianto really did not like that sound of that, but he kept quiet, and waited for an explanation.

"As near as we can tell, Jack was ambushed some time yesterday. We don't yet know exactly when or where. His assailants seem to have brought him down with a stun gun to the back of his neck. His face was also smashed into the driver's side window of your SUV. Then, he was taken to another location, where we estimate he was assaulted over the course of several hours. He was found pretty much by chance, thanks to a nosy neighbour who was investigating what they thought was just an ordinary break-in."

Mentally and emotionally, Ianto was reeling, and the only clear thought in his mind was that it was his fault. If he had not withdrawn the invitation for Jack to spend Christmas with his family, then Jack would not have been alone. He would not have been vulnerable to attack at all.

"How... How badly hurt was he?"

At this, Swanson turned to the doctor, who answered the question soberly.

"First of all, let me stress that none of his injuries are life-threatening. Don't misunderstand me. They are extensive, and very vicious, but he's not remotely in danger of dying. He has a number of ribs that are cracked, and there are a lot of knife wounds, burns, bruises... His attackers really went to town on him, I'm afraid."

"Is that all?" Ianto asked, starting to feel the first hints of relief. A few broken ribs and some cuts and bruises were nothing to the likes of Jack. His relief, though, was short-lived.

"No, it's not all," the doctor answered grimly. "I'm just coming to the real damage. Detective...?"

Swanson took over, only too aware of the ashen colour that Ianto had turned.

"It took us over an hour to free Jack after he was first found. He was tied to a bed with barbed wire."

Ianto blanched, positive that he couldn't possibly have heard her correctly.

"I'm sorry, I must be tired... I thought you said barbed wire."

"I did," she confirmed grimly. "It had been wound so tightly around his wrists and ankles that it had become embedded in his skin and had to be surgically removed. It was also used to gag him."

Horrified, Ianto launched himself to his feet and strode past them both to the doorway of Jack's room. Later on, Ianto was positive that nothing could have prepared him for the sight of Jack in that hospital bed. It wasn't so much his injuries that shattered what remained of the Welshman's composure, though God knew they were horrific. More than anything, in those initial moments, it was the aura of complete vulnerability that surrounded Jack as he lay there unconscious.

Slowly, Ianto approached the bedside, his eyes scanning Jack's body and automatically noting the injuries that weren't hidden from sight by the crisp, white bed sheet.

Jack's face was a kaleidoscope of bruises, puncture wounds and ragged lacerations. Puncture wounds lined both of his cheeks, and his mouth was a mess of torn flesh.

"The barbed wire did a lot of damage," the doctor said quietly as he and Detective Swanson joined Ianto in the room. "There's nerve damage to his hands, feet and face. It will heal, but it's going to be a long time before he regains proper mobility in his limbs."

Ianto's mind was racing, cataloguing the doctor's words and adjusting the time frames. Non-fatal injuries... three to four weeks maximum for recovery from the nerve damage... Two to three weeks for his shattered arm to heal... Perhaps a week for his ribs to heal... and days for any and all bruising to fade. He had no idea how long Jack's mouth would take to heal, and couldn't even so much as summon a smile at the thought of Jack unable to speak.

He drew in a long breath. He had to get Jack out of here, before he began to attract attention with his uncanny ability to recover. Hardening his expression, Ianto turned to both doctor and detective.

"Torchwood is taking jurisdiction, as of now."

"No."

Ianto blinked, taken aback by the abrupt rejection.

"Excuse me?"

Swanson stared at him hard.

"You heard me, Mr Jones. Torchwood is not usurping the police this time, and the fact that your Captain is the victim is just one of my reasons. It isn't appropriate for you lot to take this investigation, and you know it."

Ianto frowned, but didn't argue with her. He would leave that fight to Gwen and Owen. His immediate concern was with Jack.

"How soon before we can take him out of here?" he asked, and the doctor gaped at him in shock.

"Excuse me? You are kidding me, aren't you? He isn't going to be in a fit state to leave hospital for at least a week or two, if not longer. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go and arrange for more tests for Captain Harkness."

"What sort of tests?" Ianto asked, while at the same time not entirely sure that he wanted to know. The doctor looked pointedly at Swanson, who gave a slight nod.

"For sexual assault," he answered softly, and the bottom dropped out of Ianto's stomach.

"You think he was... assaulted like that?"

Swanson didn't flinch at Ianto's intense, wide-eyed stare.

"He was found naked, with blood between his legs. I don't think it's an unreasonable leap of logic. Do you?"

Ianto shut his eyes and, to his great shame, the first thought that sprung into his mind was that knowing Jack, he probably would have enjoyed it. But no, he thought bitterly, thrusting that thought from his mind. That thought was an awful betrayal, and he had no right thinking it.

Yes, Jack loved sex, but it was beyond wrong to think for even a second that he would enjoy being raped. No matter how sexually ambiguous a person was, rape was still rape.

"I have to call the others," he realised suddenly. Swanson nodded understandingly.

"Why don't you go ahead and do that? I'll stay with him until you get back."

Ianto eyed her incredulously.

"Why? Not that I'm ungrateful, but... I thought you hated Jack."

She smiled sadly.

"Hate is a strong word. But no, I wasn't particularly fond of him. Right now, though, he's not the leader of Torchwood. He's just a victim of a horrible crime, and I'm not offering to do for him what I wouldn't be willing to do for any other victim."

A soft, sad sigh escaped Ianto.

"Thankyou," he murmured and, with another glance at Jack, Ianto hurried from the room.

* * *

To his chagrin, he had to go all the way back to the waiting room to make the calls. By then, though, he was beyond caring what his family thought. Jack was upstairs, badly injured — quite possibly because of his own idiotic paranoia and inhibitions — and it was time to drop the charade.

Ignoring the growing interest of his family, Ianto called the first number listed in the speed dial memory of his mobile phone, hoping fiercely that the call would be answered.

Truth be told, when his mobile phone rang, Owen couldn't have been more relieved. As much as he'd promised to spend the day with his siblings, the thought of an alien emergency was a far more pleasing prospect. Offering his family as sincere an apologetic smile as he could, Owen snapped open his phone and spoke gruffly.

"This had better be good, Jack. We were just getting ready to play Charades."

"It's Ianto, Owen. Check your caller ID once in a while."

Owen rolled his eyes.

"Whatever. Spit it out, Ianto. What's wrong?"

"I'm at St Michael's A&E, Owen..."

"Oh, bloody hell, what did you do? Are you badly hurt? You didn't crash the bloody SUV, did you? Jack didn't crash it, did he? Bloody hell, he did, didn't he? I'm going to turn up there and have to deal with hysterical Harkness, because he's gotten you hurt in a bloody car accident..."

"Owen, will you shut up and listen? I'm not hurt. It's Jack..."

A cold rush crashed right through Owen, but he spoke with a forced calm.

"All right, Ianto. What's happened to Jack? And why the hell is he in the hospital?"

"He was attacked, Owen."

"What, by a..." He faltered, stopping himself just in time before he said something damning within hearing distance of his siblings. "By one of the residents?"

"No," Ianto answered in a strained voice. "It was people, Owen. Detective Swanson thinks he was ambushed, taken somewhere and... and assaulted. It's bad, Owen. He's in a bad way."

"Okay... But won't he... You know...? Be okay?"

"All of his injuries are non-fatal," Ianto told him. "He's in a serious condition, not a critical one. Owen, I need you here. We have to get him out of here before someone notices something."

"All right, mate, calm down. I'm coming. I'll call Gwen and Tosh, as well. You get your ass back to where Jack is, and make sure they don't go taking samples of his blood, or anything else like that."

"I think they might have done already. He went straight into surgery when he was brought in, apparently."

"Shit. What for?"

"Broken arm... and apparently to remove the barbed wire that he'd been tied down and gagged with."

Owen very nearly lost his lunch on the spot.

"Did you just say what I think you said?"

"He was bound and gagged with barbed wire, Owen."

"I'm coming, Ianto," Owen told him in a soft, determined voice. "I'll be there in twenty minutes."

* * *

Tosh was less than pleased to get the call from her colleague, and she wasted no time in letting Owen know it. Owen rode out the verbal tidal wave with uncharacteristic patience, and when she was done he spoke in a short, grim tone.

"Jack's been attacked and badly hurt. He's at St Michael's A&E. Ianto's there now, and we need all hands on deck to get Jack out of there, and to somewhere that we can take care of him properly."

The silence that met his words was profound. Then...

"I'll be there right away."

* * *

He was expecting a similarly agitated reaction from Gwen, and wasn't sure whether to be relieved or not to get Rhys.

"Owen, what's the problem?"

Owen hesitated for just a moment before ploughing ahead.

"Rhys, I'm really sorry, mate, but we need Gwen at St Michael's A&E. We've got an emergency."

"Oh, aye? Anything I can help out with?"

For a split second, Owen nearly said no. At the last moment, though, he changed his mind, realising that including Rhys might just prove to be a boon.

"Actually, maybe you can, mate. Could you both get to St Michael's, quick as you can?"

"Sure. What's happened, anyway?"

"It's Jack, Rhys. He's been hurt, badly."

A brief silence met the statement, and when Rhys spoke Owen felt some relief to hear genuine concern in the other man's voice.

"How badly hurt is he?"

Owen fought the urge to shut his eyes against the images that Ianto's words had put into his head, and he opted against giving specifics to Rhys.

"It's bad enough. Look, we need all the help we can get, because we're going to have to find some way of getting Jack out of there. Don't ask me why. I can't explain it. Not right now."  
Rhys could hear the tension in Owen's voice, and thankfully didn't press for any further details.

"Okay, Owen. We'll be there, pronto."

* * *

Gwen was thoroughly enjoying a long, gossipy chat with the other women in her family when Rhys apologetically interrupted.

"Sorry, ladies. Going to have to steal drag Gwen away."

She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Can't wait until tonight, love?" she queried saucily, much to the delight of the other women. Rhys smiled affectionately, taking the teasing in his stride.

"Sorry, sweetheart. I'm afraid it's work."

Her face fell as she followed him out.

"Oh, no... Not today!"

"C'mon, I promised we'd be there pronto."

She blinked, taken aback.

"We? What do you mean, we?"

"I mean both of us. It was Owen that called. He asked for both of us."

Confusion rapidly gave way to irritation.

"This isn't fair!" she persisted as they headed for their car. "Jack said there wouldn't be any emergencies!"

Rhys regarded her grimly.

"Gwen, love, I don't think Jack was expecting to end up in St Michael's A&E."

Gwen froze, staring at Rhys in shock.

"What?"

"Owen said that Jack's been hurt, and he's in St Michael's A&E. It's why he asked me to come with you. He said that we need to get him out of there, for whatever reason."

Gwen's mind reeled as she tried to work through what Rhys had just told her, and work out what possible scenario could have resulted in Jack being admitted to hospital. She couldn't think of one, and that frightened her.

"I don't get it," she stammered finally as they got into their car. "Jack was supposed to be spending Christmas with Ianto and his family. What could have happened...? And why would Ianto take him to a hospital?"

"I don't know, love, but I guess we'll find out when we get there."

* * *

Ianto had barely come off his call to Owen when a hand alighted on his shoulder, startling him into swinging around. It was his father, watching him with a familiar piercing stare.

"You want to tell us what's going on?" he asked quietly. "Because it's pretty obvious that something is wrong."

Briefly, Ianto considered outright lying before deciding he had neither the time nor the energy to construct any sort of fabrication. Squaring his shoulders, he spoke tensely.

"My boss is here. He's been badly hurt."

"Jack?" his father asked with a frown. "The one who you invited for Christmas dinner, and who fobbed you off?"

A fresh wave of guilt swept through Ianto. He was going to have a hell of a lot to atone for when everything was finally all sorted.

"He didn't fob me off, Da. Someone had to be on call at work to monitor everything, and Jack volunteered to do it so that the rest of us wouldn't miss out on spending Christmas with our families. He wanted to come... He really did." Ianto swallowed hard, and felt his chest tighten with emotion. "He was pretty upset at having to miss out."

It was more a half truth than an outright lie. Semantics, Ianto knew, but damned if he was going to stand there and allow Jack to be disparaged in any way. To his relief, his father seemed to accept the explanation.

"When you say he's been hurt, how do you mean? Was it a car accident?"

"No," he answered hoarsely. "He was ambushed... and assaulted."

Assault, Ianto thought numbly. It was such and inadequate word for what had been done to Jack, but at the same time he could just not consciously use the word 'torture'... or, for that matter, 'rape'.

His father squeezed his shoulder reassuringly.

"Does this captain of yours have any family?"

"No, Da. He doesn't have anyone."

The reality of that statement, in light of his own recent cruel dismissal of Jack, hit hard and fast, and suddenly Ianto found himself in a flood of tears. Misunderstanding the reason for his son's emotional outburst, the elder man spoke warmly to his son.

"Then you need to be his family. Don't you worry about Anna and Liam. I promise you I'll call and let you know as soon as the baby's born. Now, who were you just calling?"

"A... A work colleague. He's coming in now."

"Good. You go and do whatever you need to, and be sure to let us know if you need anything. All right?"

Ianto didn't think he could possibly feel worse than he did right at that moment. He spoke dully, unable to look his father in the eye.

"Thanks, Da."

The hand on his shoulder squeezed once more, a gesture that was meant to be comforting, and yet wasn't.

"Go on, then."

Feeling thoroughly sick, Ianto turned and headed back up to where Jack was.

* * *

_tbc..._


	3. Taking Care Of Him

A/N: _Some chapters in this fic are tending to be longer than others. This is one of the longer ones. I like to think that later chapters may be shorter on content, but still significant. More or less. _

* * *

Owen, Tosh, Gwen and Rhys all arrived at much the same time, and Owen quickly found himself under siege for answers.

"Oi, hang on!" he burst out in agitation. "I know about as much as the rest of you. It was Ianto that called me. Now, let's quit jabbering and get in there."

Rueful looks were exchanged, and they headed into the hospital together.

"Ianto," Owen said, activating the Bluetooth earpiece as they walked in. "Where are you?"

"_Third floor, Davidson Ward. Room Sixteen. Brace yourselves_."

Owen couldn't quite suppress a shudder. He really didn't like the sound of that. Glancing at his companions, he saw similar looks of worry and concern in their faces.

"All right," he said grimly. "We're on our way up. Be there in two minutes."

* * *

Ianto heard the footsteps coming closer, and wished once more than he could have done more to prepare them for the shocking sight that awaited them. He suspected it was a pointless wish. He was doubtful that anything could really prepare them.

He turned just as the door opened, and Owen walked in.

"Fucking bloody hell..."

The expletive escaped his lips before he could stop, but Ianto only nodded understandingly. Gwen, Rhys and Tosh followed him, each one uttering a similar expletive. Gwen broke away immediately from Rhys, and hurried over to the bedside.

"Oh god, Jack..."

Owen walked around to the other side and, taking extra care, lifted one of Jack's eyelids just briefly.

"How long has he been out of surgery for?"

"About half an hour now," Ianto answered.

"He should've been showing signs of waking up by now, but he's still deeply unconscious," Owen muttered, more to himself than to any of the others. "Why is he still unconscious?"

"They sedated him," Ianto said by way of explanation.

"Sedated him? Why?" Tosh asked incredulously.

"Apparently when he woke up in Recovery, he tried to get up and walk out. They sedated him to stop him... although really, they shouldn't have needed to. The barbed wire damaged the nerves in his hands and feet. He couldn't have walked out of here even if they'd been willing to let him try. In fact, I think it's safe to say that he won't be going anywhere under his own steam for a while."

"I'm sorry," Rhys interrupted in a shocked voice. "Did you just say barbed wire?"

Ianto glanced briefly at Owen, and then nodded.

"Yes. Detective Swanson said he was bound and gagged with barbed wire. It's why he needed surgery. The wire was embedded in his skin, and had to be surgically removed."

"Okay," Owen said quietly. "First thing we have to do is get him out of here, and back to the Hub. Ianto, did you find out whether they'd taken any blood samples?"

Ianto fished into his pocket, and produced three phials of blood.

"Anything else was just incidental from the surgery. This was all they'd taken, but I do know the doctor assigned to Jack has ordered other tests."

"Not a moment too soon, then," Owen muttered. "Okay, Ianto, here. Take the keys to my car, and bring it around to the service entrance..."

"No," Gwen said quickly. "You only have a two seater, Owen. Rhys, get ours."

Rhys nodded, quickly catching on.

"That's right. We've got a station wagon. Lots more room. I'll go get it, bring it around."

He hurried out to do just that. Owen nodded.

"Okay, then. Tosh, there was a wheelchair out in the corridor. Go and get it. Ianto, help me here."

Between Owen and Ianto, they managed to lift Jack up into a sitting position, and from there they lifted him off the bed and into the wheelchair.

"Thank God he's unconscious," Owen said ruefully as they sat their unresponsive captain down carefully in the wheelchair. "Otherwise this'd be agony for him."

"What are we going to do with him when we get back to the Hub?" Tosh wondered. "We can't put him in his own room. We'd never get him down there without doing even more damage."

"There's another room," Ianto told them. "Jack let me have it early on. It's two levels down from the cells. There's a bed, and other amenities. He'll be comfortable there."

"Somewhere out of the way?" Gwen retorted sceptically. Ianto shook his head, trying to hide his irritation at the mere inference.

"No, not out of the way. Somewhere safe, somewhere that he'll feel protected. He's going to be vulnerable until his injuries heal, after all."

"Bloody hell, we're going to have to look after him, aren't we?" Owen growled as Tosh checked the way was clear. Ianto glowered at him.

"Do you have a problem with that, Owen?"

"Oh no, of course not. Why would I? Not like I've got a bloody life outside of work, anyway."

"Shut it, Owen," Gwen warned him. "We owe it to Jack to do this for him. Now, let's hurry up and get him out of here before someone happens along and raises the alarm."

* * *

Detective Swanson walked quickly along the hospital corridor towards Jack's room. She had been in the cafeteria with a barely passable cup of coffee when word had reached her that the rest of Jack's Torchwood team had arrived. She wasn't particularly keen on talking to them, but instinct warned that if she didn't, they might try something idiotic — like taking Jack out of the hospital and away from its expert care.

She supposed she could understand where they were coming from. but well-equipped though they might be, she doubted they were prepared for a situation like this. They may have had the best intentions, but right then Jack Harkness needed so much more than good intentions.

A colleague had called her not too long ago to let her know that Forensics had finished at the crime scene, and had queried why she was still there. Her reply had simply been that she was waiting for the doctor to conduct a test to determine whether Jack had, indeed, been sexually assaulted. The truth that she wouldn't admit to, though, was that she didn't want to leave. Haunted by the vision of Jack trapped on that filthy bed, in that dirty little room, she found she didn't want to leave until she'd heard some positive prognosis for him. Because, right at that moment, it seemed his chances were slim for any sort of recovery that didn't result in him being left crippled.

The idea of someone as alive as Jack Harkness being left crippled and broken gutted her, even with his sheer, annoying arrogance.

She reached the door of his room, and strode in with a confidence that she didn't honestly feel, bracing herself to deal with Jack's minions. Swanson froze just inside the room, though, barely able to believe what she was seeing. The bed was empty — Jack was gone.

Wheeling around, she ran back to the duty desk around the corner.

"Please tell me Jack Harkness has just been moved to another room."

The nurse, a no-nonsense matronly type, frowned up at her.

"Don't be ridiculous. The man has serious injuries. He's in no fit state to be moved anywhere."

Swanson leaned towards her over the desk.

"Then where is he?"

She watched as realisation dawned on the woman's face, and she went hurriedly to see for herself. Swanson watched with a growing weariness as the nurse came back half a minute later, her face black as thunder, and called security to alert them that a patient was missing.

It was pointless. Swanson knew, beyond any doubt, that Jack would not be found in the hospital or its surrounding areas. His team had arrived, and had done exactly what she had expected them to do. They had gone and smuggled Jack out of the hospital.

A faint sigh escaped her as she turned to leave.

"Bloody Torchwood," she muttered sourly as she went.

* * *

"How's he doing, then?" Rhys asked in genuine concern as he carefully negotiated another turn.

"He's stable," Owen answered as he once again checked Jack's vital signs. "I just hope we can get him back to the Hub before he wakes up."

"You can catch them, right?" Rhys asked. "The bastards who did that to him?"

Owen glanced up at Rhys briefly before turning his focus back onto Jack.

"We're going to find them," he swore softly to them man who lay unconscious beside him. "I swear it, Jack, we'll find them. They won't get away with this."

"You know, I thought once that he was sleeping with Gwen," Rhys said with an uneasy chuckle. With his focus on the road, he missed the way Owen winced.

"Yeah, well," Owen said, trying to keep his voice light, "I can't say he wouldn't have if she ever gave him the right signals… but she didn't, so he didn't. Jack might act like a twat sometimes, but he'd never take it past a bit of flirting if he didn't think the other party was interested. 'Sides, at the moment, Jack only has eyes for Ianto."

Rhys' eyebrows shot up.

"Ianto? Really? I asked Jack if he was gay, but I was only joking. I didn't think he really might be."

"He's not gay," Owen countered. "Well… not by our definitions. Come to think of it, I don't think we have a definition for Jack. He kind of defies categorisation, you know?"

"So when you say he's only got eyes for Ianto, what's that then? Some sort of passing fad?"

"No," Owen answered quietly, with conviction. "No, he loves Ianto. You can see it in his face whenever he looks at him. He'll still screw anyone that shows an interest, mind, but that's just Jack. Doesn't mean anything beyond having a good time. But with Ianto, he's different. He's way beyond the falling in and out of love stage. I think he's reached the 'I love him so much it hurts' stage. Kind of pathetic, in a way."

Rhys didn't crack a smile.

"There's nothing pathetic about love, Owen."

Owen was just suppressing an urge to roll his eyes when Jack suddenly stirred, and a distress moan issued from his torn lips.

"Ah, fuck," Owen swore. "He's waking up…"

"We're nearly there," Rhys told him. "I can see the others. Hang on."

In the back, Owen tried to hold Jack down as gently as he could, all the while speaking to him in a low, soothing voice.

"Jack, it's me, Owen. You're safe, mate. Do you understand me, Jack? You're safe. No one's gonna hurt you again. We've got you."

Slowly, Jack's eyes opened and finally managed to focus on the medic, albeit briefly. He started to open his mouth with the apparent intention of speaking. Owen could tell the exact moment when the pain of his injuries registered, for Jack's eyes suddenly widened and then glazed over, and a strangled and distorted scream erupted from his throat.

"Shit!" Owen exploded as Jack's heart rate trebled, and a violent convulsion shook the Captain's body. The young medic was so desperately trying to keep Jack still that he didn't notice that the vehicle had ceased moving, and that Rhys had pulled open the rear door of the station wagon to reveal the worried faces of his colleagues.

"Please, tell me one of you thought to bring up my medical kit?" Owen asked with desperation as Jack struggled in a blind panic. Tosh held it out to him, and he could have kissed her, had the situation not been so urgent.

"Thought you'd need it," she murmured, her attention fixed firmly on Jack.

"Tosh, you're a champion," Owen said as he took it from her. "Ianto, get in here, hold him down!"

Ianto quickly scrambled in and leaned over, placing his hands carefully on Jack's shoulders and trying hard to ignore the sobs of pain that the physical contact induced. Silence fell, and they all watched tensely as Owen filled a syringe with a sedative that he'd developed specifically for Jack. It was frighteningly effective, and within thirty seconds Jack had slipped once more into the welcome oblivion of sleep.

"All right," Owen murmured with a sigh of relief. "Let's get him inside before anything else happens."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Owen was just finishing setting up the IV unit that he had brought in to hook Jack up to, replacing the enormous amount of blood that he'd lost with bags of Jack's blood that had been stored up over the years for just such an emergency. The sedative had so far proven effective, and Jack had mercifully remained deeply unconscious while they carried him down to the lower levels of the Hub and laid him in the waiting bed.

"This isn't so bad," Tosh remarked as she took a moment to look properly around the room where Jack was facing having to spend a significant amount of time. It wasn't, either. The walls, which normally would have been a dark grey, had been painted over with a soothing shade of blue. Soft bulbs had replaced the harsh glare of fluorescent lighting, and some simple furnishings, such as an armchair, a small bookshelf and a couple of pictures leant to a far homier atmosphere.

"Jack set this up for me himself," Ianto confessed. "Back when I was spending almost as much time in the Hub as he was. He said if I wouldn't go home, then he could at least make sure I had somewhere to go where I could have some privacy. There's an intercom connection in here, but no video surveillance."

"That was thoughtful of him," Tosh remarked, and Ianto smiled painfully.

"Not entirely. Why do you think there's a double bed in here?"

Owen snorted.

"Yep, that's our Jack. Set up a room, tell you it's private, and then try to seduce you in it. And can I just say right now, Ianto, that I really do not want to know whether you two have had sex in this bed."

Ianto regarded the medic disdainfully.

"As if I'd tell you."

"How is he, Owen?" Gwen asked, anxious to move the discussion forward. Owen sighed and sat back.

"He's stable, at least for now."

"What do we do, then?" Tosh asked. "We can't just leave him here."

"We'll have to take turns sitting with him," Owen decided. "I'll take the first watch. I want to keep an eye on his stats anyway. You lot might as well go back to your parties, or wherever you were." When none of them moved, Owen spoke again in irritation. "I'm serious, get out of here! There's nothing more you can do. I'll call you if I need to."

"Fine," Gwen said in resignation. "But Rhys and I'll be back tonight. Okay?"

"Whatever. Just go!"

Slowly, they filed out, until only Ianto remained. Owen frowned up at him.

"I meant you, too."

With some defiance, Ianto seated himself carefully on the edge of the bed.

"If I go, it will be back to the hospital, because that's where my family is. My sister in-law is in labour. That's how I happened to be there in the first place. They're not expecting me back there. Da said he'd call me to let me know when the baby's born. And anyway, I'm not leaving Jack."

_Not again_, he added to himself silently, bleakly.

"Fine," Owen conceded, too tired and too stressed to argue. "Probably better to have two of us here anyway. And since you're staying, I don't s'pose you could tear yourself away long enough to make some coffee?"

Ianto conceded, if only because he felt he could use some extra stimulation himself. With a lingering look at Jack, he got up and trudged out of the room.

Twenty minutes later, Ianto reappeared with two large thermoses and a container filled with an assortment of biscuits and pastries.

"My hero," Owen mumbled as he poured himself a large cup from the thermos Ianto handed him. After sating his immediate need for caffeine, Owen sat back with a satisfied sigh.

"How is he?" Ianto asked softly. He didn't especially expect the answer to be any different to what it had been half an hour ago, but he still felt the need to ask.

"No change," Owen answered. "No sign of accelerated healing." He shook his head. "Look at him, Ianto. Merry fucking Christmas."

Ianto said nothing, again feeling a sickening wave of guilt.

"You know, I may be wrong," Owen said suddenly, "and please correct me if I am, but wasn't Jack supposed to be spending Christmas with you and your family? Why the hell was he on his own?"

Ianto swallowed an almost reflexive desire to lie and say that Jack had changed his mind and pulled out. Besides the fact that Jack himself would be able to turn that story on its head as soon as he could talk again, Owen would never believe it. Jack had been far too excited about it for any of them to believe that he would have changed his mind.

"Ianto, what the fuck did you do?" Owen demanded softly.

"Family plans changed," Ianto mumbled lamely. Owen frowned, and then understanding dawned.

"You bastard, Ianto! You blew him off, didn't you! You invited him to spend Christmas with you, and then you blew him off!"

Ianto couldn't bring himself to look Owen in the eye, and the medic exhaled with an angry hiss.

"You fucker, Ianto."

He finally raised his eyes to meet Owen's gaze, with a mixture of anger and guilt.

"You don't understand, Owen..."

"Yeah, you're right, I don't. I don't understand how, when Jack has been making a real effort for you, you could turn around and kick him in the balls now. Do you know how much it meant to him that you'd invited him to spend Christmas with you? Do you even care?"

"How would you know?" Ianto snapped, the anger bubbling up inside him.

"Because, you twat, he told me! A week ago, when we were on stakeout for that rogue weevil. He wouldn't fucking shut up about it! Kept asking me stuff, like whether he should bring anything, and how he should dress... When I asked him what the big deal was, he said it was the first time he'd been invited to share Christmas Day with anyone for over a hundred years, and that he wanted to be sure that he didn't do anything to ruin it for you."

Ianto felt that coldness settle in his gut once more at Owen's words.

"Oh..."

"Yeah, exactly," Owen snarled. "He didn't want to ruin your Christmas. Well, I guess you made sure of that, didn't you? And I wondered why he'd been so quiet the last few days. Shit..."

Ianto sat stiffly, his throat threatening to close up on him. It was a good couple of minutes before he found the strength to speak again.

"It's my parents," he whispered. "They... They don't know."

"About what? You and Jack?"

"About me or any other man," Ianto mumbled. "They're ultra-conservative, Owen. Strict Catholics. I can't tell them, and Jack... He'd..."

As angry as he felt on Jack's behalf, at the same time Owen couldn't help but feel a spark of sympathy.

"Jack being Jack, he'd do something dumb. Okay, I get that. But why the hell didn't you just talk to him? He would have listened."

"I didn't want to hurt him!" Ianto choked out.

"Right. Because treating him like dirty laundry worked out so much better for you."

Feeling sick to his stomach, Ianto started to get up.

"I should go..."

"Oh no," Owen growled, grabbing hold of Ianto's arm and pulling him back. "No way, mate. You don't get out of it that easy. You're going to stay right here and help to look after him." He shook his head roughly. "Never thought I'd be defending Jack to you. Never thought you could be so fucking heartless, either."

"I didn't mean to hurt him, Owen," Ianto whispered, distraught. "I... I just didn't think it would matter. He always used to tell me he didn't do domestic, and I thought he was just humouring me when he accepted the invitation. I thought he'd be grateful to have the option out."

Owen didn't look at Ianto. He couldn't, not without feeling a renewed desire to wrap his hands around the Welshman's throat and throttle him until he admitted what an idiot he was.

"Yeah, well, you thought wrong. He really was looking forward to it, Ianto. He was really looking forward to not being alone. Instead, this happens to him." He shook his head again bitterly. "Merry fucking Christmas indeed."

* * *

The first coherent thought that Jack had as he came back to awareness was that he hadn't died. If he had, there surely would not have been anywhere near this much pain. Sure, he always experienced some residue pain upon returning to life, but it was nothing like this. This wasn't merely pain, it was agony - agony the likes of which he hadn't experienced since spending a year at the mercy of a deranged Time Lord.

Before he had a chance to begin to try and sort out the jumbled of memories that were assaulting him, he became dimly aware of a cool damp cloth rubbing oh-so-gently over his feverish skin. Slowly, he opened his eyes and was deeply grateful not to be assaulted by harsh, fluorescent lights.

He barely had time to wonder where he was when a familiar voice spoke.

"Welcome back."

He started to turn his head, but a flair of pain through his neck and skull put paid to that. The voice spoke again; softly, as though the owner knew how much pain he was in, and didn't want to add to it.

"Don't try to move or talk. It'll only hurt you worse than even you can handle. Um... Hang on."

He sensed movement beside him, and a moment later Owen's face appeared in his line of sight. The medic's face held an exhaustion that appeared bone deep, and he said as much to Owen... or tried to. The instant he tried to move his lips, pain tore through his mouth and radiated out across his face. He uttered a choked cry of pain and that, in turn, brought on a fresh wave of agony.

"Jack! Jack, listen to me! Calm down, you have to calm down!"

Jack seemed to be oblivious to Owen's attempts to calm him, though, and his heart rate continued to accelerate as he descended deeper into pain and panic.

"Fuck!" Owen exploded as he realised Jack was no longer consciously aware of his presence. Ianto, who had just walked in after refilling the thermoses, hurried over to the bedside.

"You try," Owen told him. "Try and calm him down, or I'm going to have to sedate him again."

"You really think he'd listen to me after the way I've treated him?" Ianto asked bleakly.

"I'm hoping he's not with it enough to remember. For fuck's sake, Ianto, will you just try?"

Swallowing his own distress, Ianto gently laid one hand on Jack's bruised and lacerated chest and pressed the other to the top of Jack's head, allowing his thumb to rub soothingly over the distraught man's forehead. Leaning down, he spoke into his ear in a husky, soothing whisper.

"Jack, love, hush. I'm right here, so just calm down. Can you hear me, Jack? Hush, now."

He continued to murmur into Jack's ear, and very gradually the other man calmed down and finally ceased his struggles.

"Thank God for that," Owen muttered with great relief.

Ianto didn't move, continuing to hover over Jack and stroking his forehead and temple lightly, leaning in at the same time to press feather-light kisses to his forehead.

"I'm sorry," Ianto whispered tearfully. "I'm so sorry, Jack."

Slowly, Jack's blood-shot eyes focused on Ianto, and the confusion there was all too easy to read.

"He doesn't remember, Ianto," Owen told him. "Just save the guilt trip for later, okay?"

"Do you think he remembers what happened to him?" Ianto asked hoarsely.

"God, I hope not," Owen muttered. He walked around, bringing himself back into Jack's line of sight.

"Jack, look at me."

He waited patiently until Jack's eyes were on him once more before speaking again.

"Can you blink, Jack? Once for yes, twice for no?"

There was just a moment's hesitation, and then Jack blinked once.

"Okay, good," Owen said. "Okay. Jack, do you know where you are right now?"

He was answered with two slow blinks.

"You're in the Hub, Jack. We brought you back here from St Michael's A & E. You were... You were badly hurt. Do you remember?"

Jack blinked once, and started to blink a second time when he froze. For a very long, painful minute, Ianto and Owen watched as the dawning realisation and horror played over Jack's face, and they braced themselves for another panic attack. It didn't happen.

As they watched, the shock faded into an expression of sheer misery and despair. A single tear made its way out of his bruised eye and rolled down his face, and he closed his eyes briefly, as though in a vain attempt to shut out reality.

"Yeah," Owen said softly. "You remember."

A soft noise that sounded very much like a whimper escaped Jack's lips. His eyes flickered back and forth between Owen and Ianto, as though seeking answers to questions that he was incapable of asking.

"You want to know how bad it is?" Owen guessed, and was answered with a single blink.

"Tell him," Ianto said quietly when Owen hesitated. The medic eyed him grimly before conceding and speaking to Jack once more.

"Look, Jack, it isn't good, but keep in mind that your body hasn't started healing yet, for whatever reason. Once it does, I reckon you won't be laid up for long. In the meantime, though, this is the bottom line. You've got severe nerve damage in your hands, feet and face. That barbed wire did a hell of a lot of damage."

"Jack, can you feel this?" Ianto asked as he closed his hands around the fingers of Jack's right hand and squeezed lightly. "Can you feel me holding your hand?"

Distress filled Jack's face, and he blinked twice. Ianto released his hand, and instead went back to caressing Jack's temple and forehead.

"Can you feel this?"

One slow blink, and gradually the distress began to fade.

"I'm going to take care of you," Ianto promised, leaning in to again kiss him on the forehead. "I promise you. Don't be scared, Jack. I won't leave you alone."

Jack's eyes slid shut, soothed and reassured by the tender touches.

"I'm putting a mild sedative through your IV, Jack," Owen told him quietly. "It'll help you to rest, without putting you too deeply under. Okay?"

A single blink. Neither Owen nor Ianto were particularly surprised at Jack's acquiescence. The pain he was in radiated out from him in veritable waves, and it was no surprise that he would welcome any relief from it.

The sedative worked quickly, and within a minute Jack was asleep once more.

"There is one way he would heal faster," Ianto said tentatively, watching Owen out of the corner of his eye. The medic raised his eyebrows, knowing instantly what Ianto was talking about.

"Unless you want to do it yourself, Ianto, then forget it. I already killed him once. I can't do that again... even knowing he'll come back, I just can't."

"I didn't mean you'd have to shoot him," Ianto argued. "What about a lethal dose through the IV? He'd never even know we'd done it until he woke up again."

Owen rounded on him angrily.

"Oh, well, stupid me for not realising how simple it was! Bloody hell, Ianto... You think that's the fix-all solution, then go ahead. You do it."

Ianto faltered at that, and Owen couldn't resist a sneer.

"You can't, can you? Fucking hypocrite."

Ianto didn't respond, and instead stared at his hands and tried to picture himself killing Jack. Putting a gun to his head and pulling the trigger... Holding something over his face and suffocating him... Or even, as he'd suggested to Owen, simply injecting a lethal dose of something through the IV. The thoughts made him physically sick, and he knew Owen was right. Despite knowing the end result, he would never be able to carry it through.

"Can we just forget that idea now?" Owen asked coolly.

"So we just let him suffer," Ianto said bitterly, as annoyed at himself as he was with Owen. "Jack has to suffer because we don't have the stomach to kill him. Again."

"Get off your high horse, Teaboy," Owen snapped, and got roughly to his feet. "I'm going for a walk. Call me if anything happens."

And then he was gone, leaving Ianto alone with their stricken Captain. Ianto didn't watch him go. His attention was exclusively on Jack. Reaching over, he once again began soothing caresses to Jack's temple, taking care to avoid the bruised, punctured and torn flesh of his face.

"I'm sorry, Jack," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."

* * *

_tbc..._


	4. Revelations & Ultimatums

The hours crept by. Owen left to go home and rest once Gwen and Rhys arrived back at the Hub. They stayed for the better part of the night, until Tosh arrived early the next morning to relieve them. And all the while, Ianto stayed at Jack's side, refusing to leave for any reason. When Owen arrived back at the Hub just before midday, it was to find Tosh at her workstation, trying with some futility to get some work done.

"Let me guess," he said dryly. "Ianto's still with Jack?"

She tried to smile, and couldn't quite manage it.

"He's hardly left Jack's side. It's quite sweet, really. He's so devoted."

Owen grunted.

"Try guilty."

"I'm sorry?"

"Never mind," Owen told her. "How is Jack doing?"

Worry filled Tosh's face at his question.

"He's showing signs of healing... but only at a normal speed. There's no sign of the accelerated healing that we expected to see."

Owen frowned.

"He should've started healing at a speed normal for him by now. What the fuck is going on?"

Tosh opted not to attempt an answer to that. She was as in the dark as he was. Instead, she broached another potentially awkward topic.

"Owen, Detective Swanson keeps trying to reach us. She, um... She doesn't sound particularly happy."

Owen grunted again.

"I imagine she wouldn't be. Keep diverting her for now, and when Gwen comes back, we'll all sit down together and figure out what we're going to do."

"Are you going down to see Jack?"

He nodded.

"Yeah. Do you know if he's awake?"

Tosh motioned to her monitor in answer. Owen looked, and was surprised to see a live video feed from the room where Jack currently was.

"I thought Ianto said that room only had intercom set up in it."

"It did," Tosh confirmed. "But Ianto asked me to rig up video surveillance, just until he heals up. This way, if whoever is with him has to step out... for whatever reason, then the rest of us can keep watch over him from here. I can stop it at any time... you know, to give Jack privacy. Like when Ianto bathed him this morning."

Owen nodded, and was about to head off down to the room when he paused and looked back at the young woman.

"Tosh?" he asked softly. "How are you doing?"

She looked up at him, and for the first time he noticed the tears in her eyes.

"I just can't believe something like this could happen to Jack! He's supposed to be the invincible one! I... I just can't help thinking that if this can happen to Jack, then what about the rest of us? How safe are we, Owen?"

Before he could convince himself what a bad idea it was, Owen leant down and embraced her in a protective hug. Then, without saying another word, he headed down to see his patient.

* * *

He walked in to find Jack awake, albeit in a good deal of pain, while Ianto dozed fitfully in a chair beside the bed. Jack's eyes followed him into the room as he walked over and sat down carefully on the very edge of the bed. Despite his care, though, he couldn't prevent a minimal movement of the mattress, and Jack consequently whimpered in pain.

The sound woke Ianto from his light slumber, and he started up in surprise.

"Relax, it's just me," Owen told him quietly.

Looking guilty at having fallen asleep, Ianto got up and began to pace the room, looking for something practical to do. Owen glanced from Ianto to Jack, and couldn't help but notice the way that Jack's eyes followed Ianto around the room with an unmistakable longing.

_Poor bastard_, Owen thought. _Still wants the Teaboy, even when he's the one who's been treated like shit this time._

"Oi, Ianto," Owen snapped, deciding it was time to get Ianto out of the room. "I want you to go upstairs and get a big jug of water. Room temperature, not cold. Bring it back with a glass and one of those straws that I know you've got hidden away."

Ianto stared at Owen blankly.

"Why?"

"Because I want to try and get a little bit of water into him. Go!"

Ianto went, if somewhat reluctantly. Owen shook his head and turned back just in time to see the alarm in Jack's eyes at the thought of anything going in his torn and ruined mouth.

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna pour it down your throat," Owen assured him as he sat back down. "Just a few drops at a time, yeah? A little bit of water might just help the healing process along."

He paused, taking note of the inscrutable look on Jack's face, and took a guess at what he was thinking.

"I suppose you're wondering why we haven't just killed you."

One blink, and Owen nodded.

"Yeah, well... Tempting though it is, sometimes the body just has to recover the traditional way."

The scepticism on Jack's face was obvious, and Owen smiled apologetically.

"To be honest, mate, none of us have the stomach to do it."

If anything, the scepticism got worse, and Owen let his breath out in an impatient hiss.

"Yeah, yeah. I know. But in my defence, I was half out of my mind when I shot you. Tell me honestly, though. Do you want us to kill you?"

There was a significantly long pause before Jack finally responded with two slow blinks. Owen sighed, taking no pleasure in being right.

"Well, there you go." He paused, and for half a minute the two men just stared at each other. Finally, Owen laughed softly. "First time I've ever had you as a captive audience, and I can't think of a single thing to say."

Beyond the pain, Owen was sure he could see a trace of amusement in Jack's eyes. Gritting his teeth, Owen stood up again carefully.

"Jack, I'm just going to check you over, all right?" He looked up at the camera that had been installed overnight, and then flicked on the intercom. "Tosh, you there, love?"

"_I'm here, Owen. What is it?_"

"Switch off the camera. I'm going to check Jack over, and I don't think we need it being broadcast."

There was a moment of silence, and then the small red light on the camera flickered off.

"_It's off,_" Tosh's voice confirmed. "_Let me know when you're done, and I'll turn it back on._"

"Will do. Thanks, love."

He returned to the bedside, taking care to stand where Jack could see him easily.

"Okay, Jack, I'm going to talk through everything I'm doing. I'll keep watching you, so if I'm doing anything you don't want me to do, or if I'm hurting you, just blink twice. Okay?"

One single blink.

"All right, then," Owen murmured. "I'm gonna start by pulled the sheet back to your waist, okay?"

Again, one blink.

Slowly, with all the care he could show, Owen pulled the sheet down until Jack's upper body was completely uncovered. The damage that had been done was immense, and it was all Owen could do not to cringe at what he was seeing.

He had conducted a cursory examination of these injuries already upon arriving back at the Hub, but at that point his concern had been with ensuring Jack was stable and as comfortable as humanly possible. Now, he took more time to look at the injuries that covered Jack's upper body.

The bruising that covered his chest was severe but according to Jack's medical chart, which he'd swiped from the hospital at the same time they'd hijacked their Captain, the worst of it there were several cracked ribs. Bad enough, Owen conceded, but compared to the rest of him...

The worst damage was that which the barbed wire had done, especially to his face. He didn't believe Jack was so shallow that he believed looks to be all-important, but he made a silent decision to keep mirrors well away until the Captain had fully healed.

He took his time, checking Jack's heart, lungs and other vital organs with gentle care to ensure they were all functioning as they should. From there, he moved to check whether Jack had regained any movement or sensation in his hands and feet. He hadn't.

Owen catalogued the bruises and lacerations that covered the Captain's torso, moving slowly down to his hips. He was just reaching for the sheet, intending to pull it back further, when a distressed whimper caught his attention. He looked at Jack questioningly.

"What is it? You don't want me to look?"

Two ferocious blinks. Owen bit back a groan.

"Jack, mate, I need to see. I'm sorry, but I have to look."

Two more blinks, followed by a tear escaping his bruised eyes. Owen gritted his teeth, searching his mind for something that would let Jack trust him enough to finish checking him over.

"Jack, listen... I swear I'm just going to look, and see how you're healing up. Believe me, I've got no interest in anything else. That's Teaboy's exclusive domain, I promise."

He'd hoped to see even just a small spark of amusement in the Captain's eyes, only to be shaken to find very different emotions reflected there.

Pain, humiliation... shame. Owen felt sick to his gut, and he knew what he was going to find even as Jack gave a single, shaky blink in assent. Slowly, carefully, Owen lifted the sheet back, and found himself struggling to withhold a groan at what he was seeing.

He'd worked Accident & Emergency long enough to know exactly what the bruising on and around Jack's groin suggested, and though he had no skill in psychiatry, he had seen that look of shame too often in the eyes of women not to understand the truth behind it.

Shaking his head slightly, Owen checked Jack's legs and ankles before drawing the sheet back up to cover the lower half of Jack's body once more. He then took another minute to examine Jack's broken arm with the Bekaran scanner. It took him that minute to compose himself enough to be able to speak without his voice breaking.

"Okay, so some of your injuries have started to heal, but others look like they're taking their sweet time. I reckon at the rate your arm is healing, we'll be able to take the cast off in about a week... maybe less. I have no idea, though, how long it'll take for the damaged nerves to heal. I'd have thought nerve damage would've healed fastest, but there you go. Maybe when this is over, you'll quit being such a stubborn git and let me give you a thorough examination so we don't get caught out again." He paused, and then spoke again, taking care to keep his voice low and calm. "Jack, I need to ask you a question, and I need you to be honest. Were you interfered with sexually?"

Jack shut his eyes tightly, and Owen could almost taste the tension and distress and misery that radiated out from the Captain in waves.

"Listen, Jack, I'm not making judgements," Owen told him gently. "I know you didn't ask for any of this to happen to you, and I don't care what the circumstances were that led to it. You aren't to blame for what some fucker did to you. I need you to tell me, though. Were you raped?"

Jack opened his eyes, and tears spilled freely down the sides of his face. Then, slowly, he blinked once.

"Okay," Owen whispered hoarsely.

He was just considering what to say or do next when the door opened and Ianto walked back in with the water that Owen had asked for. The Welshman paused in the doorway, looking from Owen to Jack with a growing frown. Setting down the water down, he strode over to the bedside, shouldering Owen none too gently out of the way.

"What have you done?" he demanded to know.

Owen opted not to answer. What Jack had just admitted to him had been in utter confidence, and Owen was not going to betray that. It occurred to him briefly that perhaps Ianto already knew something about it, but again that was not for him to be asking. Especially not here, right in front of Jack. So instead, he walked around and began to pour water into the glass that Ianto had brought back with him.

"Gwen and Rhys are upstairs," Ianto told Owen soberly, not quite losing that look of suspicion. "And Detective Swanson is currently on hold, demanding to speak to one of us. Says she refuses to be put off any longer."

Owen swallowed a sigh.

"All right. I'll go and talk to her. Ianto, see if you can't get him to take a bit of water. Use the straw, and just a few drops at a time to start with. Just try and get a bit of moisture back into his mouth."

He then headed out to deal with the persistent detective.

* * *

Owen found Tosh, Gwen and Rhys waiting in the conference room. Without saying a word to any of them, he walked over to his own seat — he refused point blank to take Jack's seat — and pressed a button that put Kathy Swanson through on the loudspeaker.

"Detective Swanson, this is Dr Harper. How can we be of assistance?"

If the situation hadn't been so grim to start with, Owen's question might have actually been funny. As it was, they could literally hear Swanson bristling on the other end of the line.

"_You can be of bloody big assistance by bringing your captain back to the hospital! You had no right to take him out of there! He needs to be where he'll get the right sort of medical care!_"

"We had every right to take him," Owen snapped back, "and he's exactly where he needs to be. We can look after him a bloody sight better than the quacks at that bloody hospital."

"_I don't know who you think you are, Dr Harper, but those 'quacks' saved your captain's life._"

"No, Detective. They didn't. Now, was there anything else before I hang up on you?"

"_Yes, there is. You bloody well took evidence from the hospital!_"

"You mean the blood samples that were taken from Jack? Of course we took it. Anything else?"

"_You're deliberately hampering our investigation!_" Swanson exploded. Owen hardly blinked.

"Your investigation is over, Detective. We're taking charge."

"_Oh no, no, you're not doing that! Not for this. This is a police investigation, and I will not have Torchwood going vigilante over this!_"

"Well, frankly, I don't see how you can do anything about it, Detective," Owen said bluntly.

In the moments that followed, they could all hear the detective drawing in a long, deep breath, as though she was trying to calm herself down. When she spoke again, her tone was softer, but no less tense.

"_Dr Harper, your captain was abducted and assaulted by person or persons as yet unknown. There is nothing that warrants Torchwood taking over. However, if you're willing to compromise, then maybe we can come to some sort of arrangement._"

Owen frowned, immediately on edge at that. He didn't trust the detective's suddenly conciliatory tone, but decided to hear her out regardless.

"Go on."

"_For starters, we have your SUV impounded as evidence._"

Tosh uttered a short, incredulous laugh at that.

"Are you trying to blackmail us? We can have the SUV back quickly enough."

"_Maybe you can… Miss Sato, isn't it? But not before we've gone through it very thoroughly, I guarantee it. And I know you lot have some way of messing with people's memories, but I doubt you could do that with the entire Cardiff Police Department._"

"What the hell do you want, Detective?" Owen demanded.

"_I want you to bring Jack back to the hospital._"

"Sorry, no can do. Even if we wanted to, it'd be cruel and unnecessary to move him again, and he's in enough pain right now without us adding to it. He's staying right where he is."

Another frustrated silence followed.

"_All right, a compromise, then. I want to see him, and talk to him._"

Owen snorted loudly.

"Forget it, Detective. That would mean bringing you here to our base. It's not gonna happen."

"_Did I forget to mention that I have that odd leather wrist strap of your captain's?_"

Deathly silence met Swanson's words. She went on with ill-concealed satisfaction when none of the Torchwood crew responded.

"_So far, it hasn't been entered into evidence, and no one else knows it was at the crime scene, but that could change very quickly… and believe it when I say there are a lot of people who would love to get their hands on it. So, Dr Harper, what do you say? Can we compromise?_"

Owen shut his eyes, resisting the urge to curse aloud.

"You seriously want to come to our base, and talk to Jack? Detective, what makes you think he'd even want to see you?"

"_Why don't you ask him?_"

Owen blinked, startled by the unexpected challenge.

"Excuse me?"

"_Ask him, Dr Harper. Let him decide for himself whether he wants to see me._"

"And if he doesn't…?"

"_Then I'll stop calling you. But if he agrees, then you let me come to see him, today. No more delays or stalling. Fair enough?_"

Owen cursed under his breath, realising belatedly that Swanson had to have some piece of knowledge under her belt, to be so confident that Jack would allow her into the Hub. It was too late to argue, though, and he could barely believe how neatly he had been backed into a corner. Scowling, he stood up, deciding to physically walk down to the little room where Jack was, and ask him directly.

"I'll be back in a few minutes."

* * *

Ianto was pleasantly surprised by the quantity of water that Jack had been able to manage. Following Owen's suggestion, he'd used the straw and had allowed just a few drops at a time into Jack's mouth. It was no easy task, for Jack struggled to open his mouth even just a fraction, and it took a steady hand to avoid scraping the edge of the straw against his lips.

Even so, Ianto estimated that Jack had managed to accept close to a couple of hundred millilitres of water before he finally blinked twice to indicate he could take no more. Dutifully, Ianto set aside the glass before turning back to Jack.

"That was good, Jack," Ianto murmured with a relieved smile. "I think that was more than Owen hoped you'd take." He paused to take in the expression on Jack's face, and sighed softly. "I know, you hate this. You hate that we have to look after you… but we aren't doing it because we have to, Jack. We're doing it because we want to. We love you, Jack. I love you. You do believe that… don't you?"

Jack didn't respond immediately, and when he did, it was with one slow, tentative blink. Ianto shut his eyes against a sudden threat of tears. He should have known better than to think that Jack would not have remembered what happened. Forcing himself to look once more at his lover, Ianto leaned down and pressed his lips to the feverish skin of Jack's forehead, even as the tears came in a flood.

"I do love you, Jack, honestly. Please believe me. What happened… it wasn't you, or anything you said or did. It… It was me, being a fool, and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

* * *

Jack made no sound as Ianto wept. He wanted desperately to believe him, but at the forefront of his exhausted mind was the painful memory of Ianto telling him he was no longer welcome to join the Jones family for Christmas. Oh, Ianto hadn't put it like that, of course. He'd spun some story about changed plans, but Jack was a master at reading between the lines, and the carefully-worded lie only seemed to make it that much worse.

He could only explain Ianto's behaviour by thinking that he himself had done something drastically wrong… although, he still didn't understand the need for Ianto to have lied about it. It wasn't as though the Welshman had ever had a problem letting him know in the past when he'd overstepped the boundaries. The Captain desperately wanted to know what he had done that was so bad that Ianto had seen fit to punish him like this, and lie about it to his face.

Jack shut his eyes, taking no comfort in the cool touch of Ianto's lips to his hot forehead. There was no dimming the pain he felt at the realisation that his company was not wanted. Ianto, of course, had acted as though it was no big deal, and so Jack had behaved in a similar manner to try and mask the hurt he felt. In truth, though, it was a big deal, and he couldn't understand why everyone seemed to think that Christmas meant nothing to him.

Admittedly, Christmas had never been celebrated on the Boeshane Peninsula. It wasn't until he'd found himself travelling with a twentieth century Earth girl and a nine hundred year-old Gallifreyan Time Lord that he'd experienced his first Christmas, and he remembered it with a bittersweet longing.

He remembered that Rose had been positively horrified that he knew nothing about Christmas and had spent two solid days schooling him in the festival before throwing a premature _practise _celebration in the Tardis. To make sure he was properly prepared for when they went home to her mum's place for the real thing, Rose had insisted, much to the Doctor's amusement. The Doctor had suggested to him later on, right out of earshot from Rose, that they meet privately in the cloisters if Jack wanted some real preparation for meeting the infamous Jackie Tyler.

If Jack remembered rightly, that had all been just a week before the three of them been transmatted onto Satellite Five. Grief flooded him afresh, and he shoved the bitter memories away before they could take hold, choosing instead to focus on thinking about the technical aspects of Christmas.

He recalled that the religious aspect of Christmas had fascinated him, and even now he was still curious about a religion that humbled its deity in order to glorify it. It was the idea of being included in that slightly odd extended family, though, that had really sold it to him. For the first time since his childhood, Jack had finally felt like he belonged, and that he was genuinely wanted.

After parting ways with Rose and the Doctor — he refused any longer to think of it as being abandoned, it just hurt too damn much — that heart-warming sense of belonging and being wanted was something he'd not experienced again. He'd regained it briefly with Estelle, but he'd always known that was never meant to last, and he hadn't been lucky enough to experience the joy of sharing a Christmas with her.

It wasn't until Ianto had come into his life that Jack had begun to hope that he might find that sense of belonging once more. The invitation to spend Christmas with Ianto and his family had cemented that hope in him.

In the end, it had all just served to make the rejection just that much more painful when Ianto took back the invitation. Jack, who was rarely without something to say whatever the situation, had no words to adequately describe the hurt and rejection he felt, and yet at no point had he considered that maybe it wasn't anything he'd done. He still believed that Ianto's apparent rejection of him was the result of something he'd done wrong. Consequently, Ianto's attempt to shoulder the blame only served to confuse the hell out of him, and his inability to ask the questions he needed to ask only added to his growing frustration.

The door opened, derailing his train of thought, and he looked up as Owen walked back in. The young man halted just inside the doorway, eyeing them both — and Ianto in particular — incredulously.

"Okay," Owen decided finally, "I don't want to know. Jack, listen up, mate. We've got Detective Swanson on the line. She's not giving up, and now she wants to come to the Hub to see you. She won't accept no for an answer, and she's got that wrist strap of yours, Jack. Says she'll turn it over as evidence if we don't agree."

Ianto frowned.

"What's the problem? We can override her authority easily enough."

"The problem is that she's threatening to turn it in as evidence, and we can't go ret-conning the whole fucking police department!" Owen snapped. "And they've got the bloody SUV, too. As much as I hate to admit it, we might just need her help to get it back before police forensics swarm it." He trailed off, shifting uncomfortably as he thought back to the challenge that Swanson had issued.

"What, Owen?" Ianto pressed, and Owen sighed irritably.

"Jack, do you _want_ to see her?"

To the surprise of both men, he didn't respond straight away. For just a moment, Jack became lost in his own thoughts, swept up in a dark and grim memory. For a brief moment, he was back in that room, overwhelmed with pain, fear and shame.

There he was, brutalised and exposed, a joke in the eyes of the police who were crowding into the room. There was a steady stream of police filing through the room, and some of them had openly smirked and sneered at him as they went. One detective was standing just inside the doorway, making callous jokes to anyone who would listen. Jack wanted nothing more than to sink into the oblivion of sleep, to escape the agony of his injuries and the humiliation of his situation, but it seemed he wouldn't be allowed even that.

And then Detective Kathy Swanson walked in. Rather than join her colleagues in mocking him, she'd sent them all packing from the room. Then, she'd come to crouch beside him, murmuring reassurances. He remembered the sensation of her hand against the top of his head, and the way that she'd continued to offer words of comfort even as he was screaming in pain...

He came back to reality to find both Owen and Ianto watching him anxiously. As soon as he focused again, Owen started to back towards the door.

"Okay. I'll tell her to go shove it then, shall I?"

Two rapid and furious blinks, and Owen froze on the spot.

"What? Are you saying you want to see her?"

Jack blinked once, with unmistakable certainty. Owen gaped momentarily, stunned into near speechlessness.

"You... really want to see the copper who broadcast it to her whole office that we were trapped inside our own base?"

One single, firm blink.

"Bloody hell, Jack. You realise all she wants is to harass you for evidence, and try to make us take you back to hospital?"

He blinked again, with force. Yes, he wanted to see her, and he had no means to explain why.

_Damn it, Owen, just do what I ask for once?_ he thought miserably.

Owen sighed and shook his head.

"All right, then. I'll go tell her, arrange it for tomorrow..."

Two blinks, and Owen could swear his blood pressure was starting to go up.

"What now?"

"I think he wants to see her today," Ianto murmured, and Jack blinked once to confirm Ianto's guess. Owen clenched his jaw for a long moment before nodding.

"Fine. Today, then. But I'm telling you now, if you're out of it when she gets here, I will quite cheerfully be the one to throw the cold water on you."

He wheeled around and strode from the room, mumbling something under his breath that neither Jack nor Ianto could hear. Ianto glanced down at Jack, and felt some gratitude at the hint of amusement he could see in the older man's eyes. If anyone could bring it out in him, it was Owen. He sat back down, and noticed that Jack's eyes had shifted back to him.

"You're sure about this, Jack?" he asked, quietly grateful to have the subject shifted to something less discomforting.

Jack didn't answer by blinking. He didn't need to. The look in his blue eyes gave Ianto all the answer he needed.

* * *

_tbc..._


	5. The Cop & The Captain

Owen stood on the pavement that was concealed by the perception filter, watching as Kathy Swanson approached. He was positive that this was a bad idea that would come back to bite them all in the rear, but Jack had been singularly determined that he wanted to see her. God only knew why, Owen thought bemusedly. Every time they'd crossed paths with the woman since the Suzie incident, she'd done nothing but snidely asked them if they'd locked themselves in again lately.

And now, Jack wanted to see her? After what had happened to him…?

He couldn't, for the life of him, understand why Jack was so willing to open himself up to further abuse by allowing the woman into the Hub. In the end, though, all he could do was be there, and make sure the situation didn't get out of hand, and that she wasn't given the opportunity to hurt Jack even worse.

She was standing almost right in front of him, now, and he pondered briefly the wisdom of reaching out and grabbing her shoulder. Then she turned and he caught sight of the gun sitting against her hip, and he decided that perhaps scaring her wasn't the greatest idea he'd ever had.

Sighing inwardly, he stepped off the pavement, and into clear sight.

To Swanson's credit, she didn't scream. All that escaped her lips was a squeak of surprise, which was quickly followed up by an angry glower.

"You did that on purpose!"

Owen paused, and then shrugged.

"Well... Yes." He indicated the pavement. "Shall we?"

Frowning, she nonetheless stepped up onto the pavement with him. A moment later, the lift began its steady descent into the Hub.

"Oh my god," Swanson whispered as she looked around, her eyes wide. "You all kept using the word base... but I never imagined anything like this."

Owen smirked, gratified by her reaction.

"Wait till you see Myfanwy."

She shot him a suspicious look, but chose to say nothing. They rode the rest of the way down in silence, and it was broken only when they reached the floor of the Hub, when Owen promptly turned to face her.

"Weapons, please."

She arched an eyebrow at him, incredulous.

"Excuse me? You are not taking my gun."

Owen didn't so much as flinch or blink.

"Give me your gun, Detective, or I'm taking you straight back up. You aren't going anywhere near Jack with a gun."

Her eyebrows both shot up at that, and the look on her face was one step shy of murderous.

"I am not going to bloody shoot him, Harper!"

Owen was unapologetic, though.

"Regulations, Detective. It's not that I don't trust you... which I don't, by the way. But regulations strictly state that only Torchwood personnel may be armed whilst on the premises."

"You lot don't particularly strike me as the type to follow regulations," Swanson grumbled, but she unholstered her gun and handed it to Owen all the same. "Anything else?"

It took a great deal of self control for Owen to resist making a smart-mouthed remark, and to keep his face neutral. But oh, the things he would have liked to have said...

"That's it. Thankyou. Now, if you'll come with me?"

She followed him at a brisk trot, torn between wanting to stop and stare at everything around her, and needing to keep up with Owen.

"Where the hell have you got him stashed, anyway?" she asked as they headed down into the lower levels of the Hub, and eventually turned down a long corridor. Owen halted so abruptly, that she narrowly avoided running straight into him, and he whirled around to stare at her with a dark and angry glare.

"Stashed him? Where have _stashed_ him? And you fucking wonder why we got him out of the bloody hospital!"

Swanson took an instinctive step back from him, taken aback by the very real anger in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," she apologised softly. "I didn't mean it like that. It just doesn't seem like there could be anywhere in this place where he could be... you know... comfortable."

Abruptly, Owen turned and continued walking, forcing her to jog to catch up to him.

"You'd be surprised, Detective."

He led her to a door some ways along. Before opening the door to let her through, though, Owen turned sharply to face her.

"We're letting you see him now, because for some reason Jack trusts you. I don't know why, but he does. The rest of us, however, don't, and I swear to God right now that if you do anything... anything at all... to make this worse for him than it already is..."

She held up her hands defensively.

"That's not why I'm here, Dr Harper. I promise you that."

Owen nodded, making no effort to conceal his suspicion.

"You'd better not be."

* * *

Jack had been dozing on and off for the last hour or so, unable to rest properly for the sheer amount of pain he was in. Owen had opted against any degree of sedation, instead putting a minor shot of morphine through the IV in an attempt to minimise his discomfort. The young medic had warned Jack, though, that the moment Kathy Swanson was gone, he would be fully sedating him.

For once, Jack had no objections to that. Right then, he was almost fully consumed by the constant pain, and the only positive he could find was that it took his mind off the memories that accompanied the pain. He sensed movement, and a moment later Ianto moved back into his line of sight. The Welshman's behaviour had succeeded in thoroughly confusing him, to the point where he'd finally given up trying to understand what was going on with him.

"Jack?" Ianto asked, and Jack blinked once to tell Ianto that he was paying attention. "Owen's coming with Detective Swanson," he said quietly.

Jack shut his eyes, feeling a relief that he had no way of expressing. He knew that none of the team understood why he wanted to see her. He knew they didn't trust her, and he supposed he could understand that. He didn't care, though. He couldn't explain to any of his team that it had been Kathy who had been there at his side when the rescue workers had cut him free from the bed; that it had been Kathy who had talked to him, and tried to reassure him when the pain was so bad that he had literally screamed himself unconscious.

He doubted he could have explained it to them even if he had been able to speak, primarily because he wasn't sure he understood it even in his own mind. It wasn't that he felt that he owed her. That wasn't it at all.

Her actions towards him had been unexpectedly kind, and as a result he found himself doing something completely unexpected. He found himself starting to trust her. Subsequently, he wanted to see her, even if he had no way of answering the questions that she would surely have... Even if he had no way to thank her.

The door opened, and Owen ushered her through. She stopped just inside the doorway, and their eyes met for a lengthy moment. Then, before either Ianto or Owen had a chance to speak, she walked quickly over to the bedside, her concern reflected in her eyes.

"Dear God, Jack..."

He watched her, feeling an entirely different sort of pain that he had no real explanation for. He wanted to speak, and was beyond frustrated that he couldn't.

Carefully, she reached out to lay her hand against the top of his head, and rubbed her thumb gently across his forehead and temple. She sat with great care on the edge of the bed, and made no attempt to touch him in any other way. Then, she threw an angry look at Owen and Ianto.

"You selfish bastards, you should never have taken him out of hospital!"

Neither Owen nor Ianto flinched in the face of her rebuke, even though she was certain she could see at least some degree of guilt in Ianto's eyes.

"It's got nothing to do with us and our feelings, Detective," Owen said flatly. "Don't criticise what you can't possibly understand."

She looked away from Owen, frustrated and angry. She could see the pain Jack was in so clearly that she could almost feel it herself, and yet they still seemed to think that they knew what was best.

"You can both go out," she told them tersely. "I want to talk to him alone."

Again, Ianto and Owen exchanged looks. Neither man was particularly happy with that directive — Ianto especially.

"You seriously expect us to just leave you alone with him?" Owen demanded to know. She glared impatiently at him.

"What the hell am I going to do?" Get up and walk out with him? Bloody grow up, you prat."

Still reluctant to go, Owen looked to Jack.

"Jack? Do you need us to stay, mate?"

Both Ianto and Owen were one step shy of gob smacked when Jack blinked twice. Kathy regarded them with a smug grin.

"I'm assuming that's a 'no'?"

Scowling, Owen took a step back.

"Fine. But we'll be watching on the CCTV, though. If you say or do anything at all..."

"I know," she retorted. "You'll boot me out arse first."

Owen snorted as he and Ianto headed out of the room.

"You don't know the half of it, lady. You really fucking don't."

Once the door swung shut, Kathy turned her attention fully back to Jack, and the aggravation melted away from her face, to be replaced with genuine concern, as well as mild bemusement.

"Some team you've got there, Captain," she said wryly, and he responded with one blink. She sighed softly. "Well, I suppose that they at least care about you, even if it is a little misguided. But they still should have left you in the bloody hospital!"

Jack blinked twice, firmly, and she was taken aback by the apparent meaning in that simple gesture.

"No? You don't agree?"

He didn't respond, but stared at her through bruised and pale eyes. She could see the meaning there as clear as day. It was unmistakable.

"Jack, for God's sake, you nearly died! You should be in hospital, not shut away in some dank little room underground! Surely you don't agree with what they did?"

It was her turn to be gobsmacked when he blinked once, firmly.

"You can't be serious."

Again, one blink, and she could read another look in his eyes now, as clear as anything. It was telling her exactly what the medic had told her just a few minutes ago.

_Don't criticise what you don't understand..._

Realising she would get no satisfaction on that subject, she decided it was time to switch to a more official line of questioning.

"Jack, do you remember any of what happened to you?"

And suddenly, he was wishing they were back on the subject of whether or not he should have been smuggled out of the hospital. Because yes, he remembered only too well what had happened to him, and he wished desperately that he could forget as completely as he'd forgotten those two years that the Time Agency had erased from his mind.

"Okay," Kathy murmured. She'd seen the distress on his face, and was anxious to keep any potential stress to a minimum, lest one of Jack's team come back in and kick her out. "I'm going to ask a few questions, Jack. Just… answer them as best as you can, okay? And I promise, I'll stick to blink-enabled answers, okay?"

He couldn't smile, but she thought she saw a spark of amusement in his blue eyes. Then, slowly, he offered her a single, tentative blink. It was so easy to tell how much he didn't want to do this, and yet he didn't refuse. It only made her respect him all the more, knowing damn well how hard it had to be for him.

"Okay. Can you tell me, was there more than one person involved?"

One blink. She nodded, not particularly surprised by the revelation. It seemed to be a given in her mind that the likes of Jack Harkness would not be brought down by a single man, and all else aside it had already been established by her own department that more than one person had been in on the attack.

"Was it two men?" she asked. He blinked twice, and she felt the beginnings of unease deep in her gut.

"Three?"

Two blinks. She was starting to feel slightly ill.

"Jack, how many men attacked you?"

He answered with slow and steady blinks. One, two, three, four, five, six…

"Oh my god," she whispered, shutting her eyes in an effort to suppress the horror she felt. "All right… Do you know if they were deliberately targeting you?"

Two blinks. No, he didn't know. She thought he possibly suspected, but wasn't certain enough to decide one way or the other.

"Do you know who any of them were? Did you recognise any of them?"

Jack hesitated for a long moment, searching his slightly hazy recollection for some familiarity, but there was none. He answered with two slow blinks, not quite able to conceal the relief he felt.

"Okay," Kathy murmured. "Jack, when did they grab you? Was it on Christmas Eve?"

One blink.

"Yes. Okay… Can you tell me where you were taken from? Was it from this place?"

He blinked twice, having no way to tell her that six humans would never have been able to breach the Hub security to walk in and snatch him.

"From your home?"

Two blinks. She couldn't know that the Hub was the only home he had.

"Were you at a bar, maybe? Or a pub?"

He blinked once, quickly. Though his memories were still a little hazy, he had a fairly clear memory of going there. Unfortunately he had no way of telling her which pub he'd gone to. She didn't seem fazed by the lack of details.

"Okay, that's good. That's a start. Jack, I'm sorry, hon, but can you stay with me for just a few more minutes?"

He blinked again, not so much in affirmation of her plea as an attempt to focus his blurring vision on her.

"Good. You're doing really well, Jack. Now, do you remember anything that might have happened while you were in there? Did anyone perhaps pay you particularly close attention? Or was there someone who made you feel especially uncomfortable?"

He didn't answer straight away, and as he searched his mind for an answer, he slowly became lost in his memories…

* * *

_tbc..._


	6. How It Began

_Christmas Eve_

_Jack fled the Hub the moment Ianto left, pausing only long enough to wish Tosh a happy Christmas. There was a puzzled look on her face that spoke in volumes — why aren't you leaving with Ianto? it asked — and he added it to the growing list of reasons why he couldn't stay there any longer. As he rode the lift up to the ground level, he steadfastly avoided thinking about the next forty-eight hours, and instead focused on the present._

_Right at that moment, he decided, all he wanted was to get the SUV from the garage — avoiding Ianto at all costs — and find some dark little corner as far away from the Hub as possible where he could drink himself into oblivion. He particularly didn't want to be around when Ianto found the gift in his car, and came back to throw it back in his face, as Jack expected he would want to do._

_He didn't even know why he'd left it there in Ianto's car. It was only leaving him vulnerable to being rejected yet again._

_Stop thinking about it, Harkness, he told himself angrily. Ianto had made it more than obvious that he wasn't interested. Time to move on. Go and get drunk, maybe find someone who was just as lonely as him to share a bed for the next day or two, and then back to business._

_The thought brought him up cold. Just as lonely as he was... He couldn't deny it now that he'd admitted it to himself. Lonely… He was lonely, painfully so, and everything that had happened over the last couple of days had only exacerbated it._

_Damn it..._

_He wiped furiously at his eyes, angry for allowing his emotions to take such a firm hold. At the same time, though, he had honestly thought there was something between him and Ianto. He couldn't believe how spectacularly wrong he had been._

_And yet, through it all, he couldn't find it in himself to blame Ianto, or be angry with the younger man. The more he considered it, the more he was positive that it was something that he'd said or done that was to blame for Ianto withdrawing from him, and pushing him away. There had to be something he'd done, some rhyme or reason to the painful rejection… but he could think of nothing. Nothing at all._

_He waited in the shadows as Ianto's car finally exited the concealed Torchwood garage before slipping in and taking the SUV. He wanted to be as far away from the Hub as possible, and the SUV was the only way to do that quickly._

_As he drove, his mobile phone rang, and he very nearly answered it before checking the caller ID. Ianto... Reaching across, he did what he had so often ordered his team not to do. He switched the phone off and then, almost as an afterthought, he disabled the tracking system that linked the SUV to the Hub's mainframe. Last thing he needed was for Ianto to track him down and give him a verbal serve._

_He found what he was looking for almost on the other side of the city, in one of the blue collar districts. Respectable enough by all appearances, without being too dingy or too fancy. Leaving the SUV parked out on the street in plain sight — if he was going to get plastered, he wanted to be sure he could find it again — he headed into the pub._

* * *

_The place was perhaps half full, and though a few heads turned at his entrance, no one seemed to show particular interest in him. Feeling his mood sour even more at the lack of attention, Jack stomped over to the bar and caught the attention of the publican._

_"Scotch, straight," he growled, "and keep them coming."_

_The publican smirked, sensing a large tab coming his way._

_"You got the cash for it, mate?"_

_Reaching into the folds of his greatcoat, Jack pulled out his billfold and thumped it down on the counter. It was bulging with twenty pound notes._

_"That answer your question?"_

_The publican eyed the billfold with interest, and his gaze flickered oh-so-briefly to a point somewhere beyond Jack. Then, he poured the requested drink._

_"Scotch, straight. Enjoy."_

_Jack grunted unintelligibly, promptly losing himself in the hard liquor, and oblivious to the publican who promptly vanished to the far end of the bar._

_Half a dozen or more drinks later, he finally had a pleasant buzz going, and was finding it difficult to remember why he was so determined to get drunk in the first place. That was a good thing, he decided. His mood bolstered by the alcohol, Jack swung around to scan the pub, searching for someone — male or female — to drown the rest of his sorrows in._

_He was far enough gone that he didn't notice the man sliding onto the bar stool beside him until he spoke._

_"Buy you a drink?"_

_Jack looked around, and his interest was immediately piqued by the not-too-pretty face that met his gaze._

_"Already got one, thanks," he answered, semi-aware that he was beginning to slur his words just slightly. He was answered with an endearing grin._

_"Buy me one, then?"_

_Oh yeah, Jack decided. This one was definitely a goer. He called for a drink for his new companion, and another for himself._

_"Name's Chris," the young man introduced himself and Jack responded in kind._

_"Jack."_

_Chris held up his drink._

_"Cheers, Jack."_

_Jack downed the Scotch in one long swallow. He barely felt the burn of the alcohol down his throat now, and was too drunk to consciously notice that Chris barely touched his drink._

_"Haven't seen you in here before," Chris commented conversationally. "Been in Cardiff long?"_

_"Longer than you could imagine," Jack muttered._

_"You looked kinda miserable when you came in. Any special reason why you're here on Christmas Eve, and not with your loved ones?"_

_Jack stared bleakly into his now empty glass._

_"Yeah. I don't have any."_

_"Oh. Sorry..."_

_Suddenly aware that his moroseness might drive away a potential lay, Jack put on his best 'take me home and fuck me senseless' grin, and turned his full attention on Chris._

_"But that's not important. Right here and now is what matters."_

_"And what we do with it, right?"_

_Jack's gaze dropped to find Chris's hand resting on his thigh, his thumb drawing lazy circles. Looking back up, he found himself staring at a sexy and inviting grin._

_"Maybe we could keep each other company?" Chris suggested. Jack closed his hand over Chris's, on the cusp of accepting the proposition, when something stopped him cold._

_All of a sudden, all he could see was Ianto's face, and a sickening sense of betrayal descended onto him. He couldn't do this. As much as he didn't want be alone, he couldn't bring himself to bed a complete stranger. Not when he still hoped that there was a chance to fix what he had apparently so royally fucked up. Gently, he lifted the warm hand off his thigh and stood up._

_"Jack...?"_

_"I'm sorry," Jack murmured, genuinely regretful. "I shouldn't have come here. Maybe... Maybe some other time."_

_He started to turn away, but on the spur of the moment, he turned back and leaned in to press a chaste but lingering kiss to the other man's mouth. Then he dropped a number of notes on the counter and headed out of the pub._

* * *

_He was probably, maybe, fairly certain that he shouldn't drive. On the other hand, leaving the SUV here probably wasn't such a hot idea, either. He stood beside the vehicle, torn over what to do. His hand was on his mobile phone before it occurred to him that calling Ianto now, for a trivial matter like this, was a sure-fire way to worm his way even further into the Welshman's bad books._

_Fine, he decided ruefully. He'd make sure it was locked, and catch a taxi back to the Millennium Centre. He was just doing that when he sensed he wasn't alone. A moment later, his still fuzzy vision spotted Chris's reflection in the window._

_"Hey, I'm flattered," Jack said as he started to turn. "But seriously, not..."_

_It was as far as he got. He turned just enough to realise that Chris was no longer alone, and that he was suddenly surrounded by five or six men, each of whom wore identical expressions of hatred._

_The alcohol in his system had slowed his reflexes just enough that he wasn't fast enough to duck the fist that came almost literally out of nowhere, slamming into his temple. He staggered but didn't fall. Before he could recover from the shock, a strong hand gripped a fistful of his hair and slammed his face into the car window. The window cracked, and so did his cheekbone._

_Jack grunted in pain, his vision exploding in light and stars. He was held there against the SUV as hands roughly patted him down, searching for weapons and anything else they could find. His attackers quickly divested him of his wallet, billfold, keys and his Webley, and his greatcoat was stripped from his shoulders. The next thing he knew, they had the back of the SUV open and were going through what equipment was still in there._

_He grunted again and struggled to free himself, only to win himself yet another fist to the head._

_"Stay still, you fucking poof," a gravely voice in his ear demanded._

_"Hey!" someone shouted gleefully. "I found a fucking stun gun!"_

_"There's some seriously freaky shit back here!" someone else said with a hoot. "Don't know what most of it is!"_

_"You some kind of coppa, pretty boy?" the voice in his ear asked. "They taking poofs in the police force now?"_

_Any lingering drunkenness had been washed away by a permeating mix of anger, fear and adrenalin, and he spoke with a guttural snarl, and an anger that was dampened only by the pain that was radiating out from his face._

_"Torchwood, you stupid son of a bitch. Let me go, and you can walk away right now."_

_Laughter was the only response he got._

_"Torchwood, he says! Any of you lads heard of Torchwood? Sounds like a fucking poof party, if you ask me."_

_Raucous laughter exploded all around him, and Jack groaned as the grip on his hair tightened significantly._

_"What... What do you want...?" he managed to ask, even with his face mashed against the window._

_His captor leaned in close, and rank breath ghosted across his face._

_"Oh, you're going to find out, sunshine, I guarantee it. See, we don't like your type round here."_

_"What type would that be?" Jack asked. "Tall, dark and good looking?"_

_He groaned again as his face was ground into the cracked window._

_"Poofs like you, you fucking smart arse. That's what type."_

_And then Chris was there, leering at him in a decidedly unsexy way._

_"You were right about one thing, Jacky boy. You shouldn'a come here, not at all. Should'a stayed right away. Now, you're gonna get a Christmas present you'll never forget."_

_He felt the press of cold metal to the back of his neck. Then, the hands holding him let go. Before he could react, though, debilitating bolts of electricity surged through his body. A strangled cry escaped his lips, and then darkness claimed him._

* * *

He came back to reality, to pain and noise. Pain was spreading throughout his body, and an anguished scream filled his ears. The scream was coming from his own torn lips, he realised dimly — a combination of the very real pain he was in, and the horror at the slow realisation that his assault was apparently nothing to do with Torchwood.

He couldn't kid himself otherwise, as much as he wanted to. Those men hadn't even known Torchwood existed. They had targeted him for one reason only, because thought he was gay. There had been only one point behind it all — pure and simple hatred.

Another tormented wail tore loose from his throat. Now that he'd remembered, all he wanted was to forget again, to bury the memories of the assault so deep that they would never resurface.

Kathy watched in growing anxiety as Jack became lost in his memories. She was positive that he was remembering something about the assault. It was just a shame that he was incapable of telling her about it.

Minutes ticked by, and silence blanketed the whole room almost oppressively. She was just starting to wonder whether she ought to call one of his team in, when Jack suddenly came back to reality with a strangled scream that was pure, heartbreaking anguish.

"Jack," she exclaimed anxiously, leaning across and trying to get him to focus on her. "Look at me, Jack. Please, look at me. You're safe, please, just focus on my voice. C'mon, sweetheart, I know you can do it…"

The screams that rent the air just about broke her heart, knowing she could do nothing to help him. She was still trying to get through to the distraught man when the door opened and Owen ran in, with Ianto close behind.

"I'm sorry," she apologised anxiously as she was shoved unceremoniously out of the way. "But I had to ask him…"

"Yes, thankyou very much," Owen snapped as he injected a pale pink substance through the IV while Ianto tried to calm Jack down. It took effect quickly, and within a minute Jack slipped once more into the blackness of sleep.

"He was remembering what happened to him," she said when Owen turned to stare accusingly at her.

"Yes, that's all very useful when he can't bloody talk!" Owen exploded. "Look, I think it's time for you to go, Detective."

For a brief moment, she considered arguing. The dark look on Owen's face, though, gave her second thoughts. Now was not the time to argue and, all else aside, she doubted that Jack would be awake any time soon.

"All right," she conceded quietly. "But I am going to need to talk to him again." She focused a hard look on him. "Don't you dare go vigilante on this, Dr Harper. The bastards that did this are going to be held accountable by the law."

Owen's expression remained inscrutable as he held out a hand to her.

"I believe you have something of Jack's."

She'd nearly forgotten about the wrist strap, and a part of her wanted to keep it for leverage further down the track. They'd had a deal, though, and Torchwood had kept up their end of that deal. She couldn't… no, she wouldn't break her word. With visible regret, she fished it from her jacket pocket and handed it to Owen.

"I suppose you're not going to tell me what that is?" she asked, holding out little hope.

"You'd suppose right," Owen retorted. "Now, it's been charming, but if you'll come with me, I'll show you out."

She paused, her gaze going to Jack once more.

"He's an incredible man, to have survived what was done to him."

Owen's expression softened fractionally at her sincere words.

"We know, Detective Swanson. We really do."

* * *

_tbc…_


	7. Understanding

Night time crept up on them. Gwen ordered take-out that then sat getting cold, because none of them had the stomach for food. Conversation was sparse at best, and eventually petered out entirely. And while the team tried to focus on the more mundane routine of paperwork, whilst taking it in turns to sit with Jack, Rhys busied himself with keep them all going with a steady flow of good, strong coffee.

It was nearing six in the evening when Tosh broke the near oppressive silence with an unhappy moan.

"Tosh?" Gwen asked tentatively.

"We've got a weevil alert," Tosh answered. "Three of them, in downtown Cardiff."

"Bloody typical," Owen grumbled. Reaching over, he switched on the intercom. "Ianto, get your arse back up here. We've got a weevil alert."

Ianto's voice came back laced with that special tone that suggested he thought that whoever he was talking to was an idiot.

"_You, Gwen and Tosh are perfectly capable of dealing with one weevil, Owen. I'm not leaving Jack alone._"

"There's not one weevil, Ianto, there's three of them! We need you with us, mate."

Silence, and then…

"_I'm not leaving Jack alone._"

Owen looked at his colleagues in frustration.

"Bloody stubborn sod…"

"I could stay with Jack," Rhys offered suddenly. When the others turned slightly incredulous stares on him, he shrugged. "I really don't mind. You all need to go do your thing, but you don't want to leave him alone. That's fair enough. So let me sit with him. I won't leave him alone, I swear."

Owen nodded, grateful all over again for Rhys' understanding.

"Thankyou."

* * *

Ten minutes later, Rhys found himself in that small room, sitting by the bedside and watching the sleeping captain with sympathy. Ianto had given up his place at Jack's side with extreme reluctance, and had gone only once he had extracted a solemn promise from Rhys that he would not leave Jack alone, even for a minute. It was a promise he had no intention of breaking.

Right at that moment, Jack was resting more or less peacefully, though Rhys suspected that was mostly because of the mild sedative that Owen had kept dosing him with throughout the day. The medic hadn't especially wanted to sedate him, but Jack's state of distress ever since that detective left had been too great to ignore.

Merry Christmas indeed, Rhys thought bleakly as he stared at Jack's pale and battered features. Earlier, he'd overheard Gwen and Tosh talking, expressing confusion that Jack had been alone at all. From what he could make out, Jack was supposed to have been spending Christmas with Ianto and his family. And yet, Jack had been on his own...

Rhys had a suspicion that Owen knew what was going on. The medic had done a very rapid disappearing act when that particular conversation began. On top of that, Owen had been throwing some fairly unpleasant looks in Ianto's direction, causing Rhys to wonder whether there wasn't trouble in paradise, so to speak. Really, though, the only thing that Rhys was certain of was that he didn't want to get involved. Whatever was going on, he didn't want to be caught in the middle of it.

A faint moan caught his attention, and he looked down to see Jack was stirring. He felt a brief moment of panic before he recalled what Owen had said. Jack's pain meds and sedative were on a strict timer. Even if he was in pain, it wouldn't be the case for too long, as the timer was set to trigger the next release of medication any minute. In the meantime, though...

"Jack?" Rhys asked, keeping his voice low and even. "You awake, mate?"

Slowly, Jack's eyes opened and, with some effort, managed to focus on Rhys.

"There was a weevil alert," Rhys told him in an effort to explain why he was there rather than one of Jack's team. "Three of 'em... So, I guess you're stuck with boring old me 'til they get back."

He couldn't be certain, but Rhys thought he saw a hint of amusement in the Captain's eyes. It lasted only a moment, though, and then Jack's eyes were flickering off to the side.

"What is it?" Rhys asked, and then wanted to smack himself for asking a question that Jack couldn't answer. Then, his gaze fell on the water jug. "You want some water, mate?"

One blink.

"Okay," Rhys murmured nervously. He poured some water into the glass, and then hesitated. "Can you drink through the straw?"

Jack didn't respond immediately. Up until now, he had gotten water through someone dripping it into his mouth. Now the truth was that he believed he could feel his mouth healing, and it was certainly better than it had been several hours ago. The pain that had been centred in that area was significantly diminished, but was it enough? Time to find out, he decided, and blinked once.

Looking a little on the unsettled side, Rhys held the glass close and placed the end of the straw between Jack's lips.  
Jack winced as pinpricks of pain shot through his lips, but he didn't pull away. Deciding the pain was tolerable, he closed his lips around the straw as best as he could, and gently sucked. The water was cool, not cold, and felt incredibly soothing in his dry, sore mouth. There was some pain, but it seemed to fade even as he drew some more water from the glass.

By the time he indicated that he'd had enough, and Rhys took the glass away, he felt like he could just about manage a few words.

"Thankyou..."

Rhys blinked in astonishment. The word had come out fairly garbled, and sounded more like 'ank-oo', but he understood it nonetheless, and he also knew the fact that Jack had managed to say anything at all as a fairly big deal. Shaking himself back to reality, Rhys smiled encouragingly at the Captain.

"You're welcome. How's the pain, then? Is it bad?"

Jack took a brief moment to assess himself before answering in that same, tremulous voice.

"No."

He winced at the pain that spiked through his mouth, but it faded again quickly enough. Either the power of the vortex was finally acting to regenerate and heal his broken body, or Owen's cocktail of pain meds and sedatives had just kicked in. He hoped it was the former, and not the latter. If his body had, indeed, started to heal, then he would have another day or two, perhaps, to suffer this forced convalescence before he was back to normal.

He steadfastly refused to think about anything beyond the physical harm he'd suffered. Ultimately, he considered himself to be a soldier, and a good soldier did not allow himself to be affected by the actions of the enemy. Once his body was fully healed, he would be able to bury this entire incident in his mind, and pretend that it never happened. And maybe, just maybe, if he tried hard enough and long enough, he might even be able to convince himself of that.

Fresh pain that had nothing to do with his injuries spiked through Jack, and he made a concerted effort to put his focus into the physical here and now. He could overcome the physical traumas, no problems at all. Indeed, it seemed he'd already begun. The fact that he could speak again — even though it was just a few words — was an encouraging sign.

"I tell you what," Rhys said suddenly, his tone nervous, as though he was struggling to find a suitable topic. "That Ianto really cares about you, mate. Don't think he's left your side since we brought you back here... and Owen and Gwen had to practically drag him away to go lookin' for them weevils."

Jack felt a familiar, yet no so dull stab of pain deep in his gut at Rhys' words. It was true, each time he'd woken up it had been to find Ianto beside him, watching with a concern that Jack found it hard accept that he was really feeling. He wanted to believe Rhys, he really did. But if Ianto cared so much, then why had he pushed him away before Christmas?

"What is it?" Rhys asked, seeing the distress in Jack's face.

Jack tried to open his mouth again to speak, but it turned out to be one effort too many. Pain tore through his face, and his attempts to speak turned into a heartbreaking sob of pain.

"Ah, crap," Rhys muttered, running his fingers through his hair in anxiety. "Look, mate, I don't know what to do… Bloody useless to you, aren't I?"

"…un…" Jack managed to get out, and silently cursed his inability to form complete words.

At that moment, there was a distinct click, and Jack's IV was flooded with a pale pink substance. The timer had just gone, Rhys realised, triggering the release of a dose of painkillers and sedative. Jack would not be awake for much longer, and Rhys was surprised by the regret he felt at that.  
Jack was still trying to speak, he realised, but the sedative was working quickly to put him back under.

"An… no…" Jack whispered, even as darkness claimed him once more. "Why…"

Rhys frowned as he tried to piece that together. Anno? He sucked in a sharp breath. No, not Anno. Ianto… Two words — 'Ianto' and 'why'. In those moments before losing consciousness, Jack had been trying to ask something either of or about Ianto, but what?

He shook his head, started to sit back, and froze. He was positive that even just a few minutes ago, there had been cruel puncture wounds lining Jack's cheeks. Now, there was nothing but clear, unblemished skin. Not even a bruise marked the flesh.

Leaning in close, his heart in his throat, Rhys watched as Jack's torn lips literally repaired themselves right before his eyes. Bruises, lacerations, puncture wounds — they all vanished as though they'd never existed, leaving Jack's face looking picture-perfect once more.

Heart pounding, Rhys looked down at the Captain's bandaged wrists, half-tempted to remove the gauze to see whether the same miracle had occurred there. In the end, though, he did nothing, not daring to touch the sleeping man for fear of disturbing him.

Whatever had just happened, whatever was going on, he would demand answers when the others came back. His thoughts went briefly to the last two words Jack had spoken before falling asleep once more. They all had a hell of a lot of explaining to do — perhaps Ianto, most of all.

* * *

_tbc..._


	8. Awkward Explanations

The weevil hunt was both a success and a failure. They weren't successful in catching the creatures, but they were able to chase them back into the depths of the sewers. It wasn't necessarily the best result, but for four young men and women who were worried sick about their Captain, it was a tremendous relief not to have to worry about the follow-up details of catching a weevil.

Ianto walked back into the Hub ahead of the others, anxious to get back to the little room, to resume his vigil at Jack's side. Ignoring the voices of his colleagues, Ianto hurried down the long corridor and into the room. He was brought up short, though, as he walked in.

"What is it?" Ianto asked defensively, taken aback by the accusing look on the other man's face. Rhys pointed down at Jack's sleeping form, visibly fuming.

"He healed! Right in front of me! He bloody healed up like nothing happened!"

Ianto's stomach lurched unpleasantly. When Jack's accelerated healing hadn't kicked in immediately, they had all assumed it was going to happen at a more steady pace. It hadn't occurred to any of them that it might happen suddenly like this. Walking over, Ianto leaned in to look closely at Jack, and saw that Rhys was right. Where before it had been nearly unrecognisable for the damage that had been done, now Jack's face was utterly unblemished.

Taking extreme care, Ianto lifted the edge of one of the bandages that enclosed Jack's wrists to look, and was not surprised to see the torn flesh was well on the way to healing. Not fully healed yet, but definitely getting there.  
He looked back at Rhys, and found himself the focus of a force-ten glare.

"You want to tell me what the hell is going on here? How can he be practically crippled one minute, and almost back to normal the next? It's not bloody natural, mate! He's not natural! He's a… a freak!"

Ianto felt a flush of anger on Jack's behalf, and he reacted vehemently.

"Don't call him that! Don't ever call him that!"

"What's going on?"

It was Owen, come to check on his patient. The medic frowned deeply, looking sharply from Ianto to Rhys, and back to Ianto again, waiting for an explanation for the raised voices. Ianto motioned towards Jack.

"He's started healing. His face looks like it's healed. His wrists and ankles aren't quite there yet."

Owen strode across and began to look Jack over. He carefully pried Jack's mouth open to confirm the healing was all the way through, and not just external. Satisfying himself that was the case, he turned his attention to the Captain's wrists and arm.

"Arm's not healed yet... and I doubt he'll have any feeling back in his hands and feet yet. Shouldn't be too far off, but I think I'll keep the IV going until he's fully healed. Those nerves repairing themselves are going to hurt like hell."

"Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on?" Rhys asked, starting to sound more plaintive than angry now. Owen turned to him, and spoke in the same matter-of-fact tone he had used when explaining the Rift to Rhys.

"Jack is not from our time. He's from the 51st century, and he used to travel through time. Somewhere along the line, something happened to him... exactly what, we're not sure. He's never explained it to any of us. Basically, though, he can't die. At least, not permanently. His body always repairs itself, even if he's been killed. And his body has accelerated healing, meaning even if he's injured, he won't stay that way for long."

Rhys sucked in a long breath.

"That's why you wanted to get him out of the hospital."

Owen nodded, quietly pleased that Rhys was catching on so quickly.

"Exactly. Now, we don't know the how or the why of it. We only know the what. This is what Jack's body does. He heals and he comes back to life."

Rhys ran his fingers through his hair, trying to wrap his mind around that concept. It was harder than he wanted to admit.

"I think... I'm getting a headache," he mumbled finally. Owen nodded.

"It does tend to have that effect. I'd say you get used to it, but we haven't yet. Look, Rhys, why don't you go back upstairs? Go join Gwen. Get yourself a cuppa, mate. I'll be back up soon, and we'll explain what we can to you."

Rhys headed for the door, still frowning. He paused in the doorway, looking back at the two men.

"By the way, he got a few words out before his meds kicked back in. Mostly just saying thanks for helping him drink some water... but the last thing he said got me wondering."

"And what would that be?" Owen asked, his focus exclusively on Jack.

"He said two words. He said 'Ianto', and 'why'."

Both Ianto and Owen froze, and then Owen looked around at Ianto with a dark look on his face. Ianto paled slightly, but didn't flinch. Rhys stood there for a moment later, watching them intently, before turning and walking out of the room, allowing the door to swing shut behind him.

"Looks like you're going to have to face the music sooner rather than later," Owen remarked coolly as he finally stepped back from the bedside. "I don't think it'll be long before he's back on his feet."

Ianto remained silent, his eyes fixed on his injured lover. Owen stripped off his gloves, quickly checked the IV and then headed for the door.

"I just hope you're ready for it, mate," he said as he headed out of the room.

* * *

Ianto waited until Owen's footsteps had faded before sitting down with a heavy thud and letting his head drop into his hands. He was not looking forward to facing Jack over what had happened between them, not at all. And on top of that, there was what had happened to him during his hours of captivity. The violence that Jack had suffered, the torture and the torment… And of course, there was the other business, the business that Ianto couldn't bring himself to confront.

Detective Swanson knew… and how could she not? After all, she must have been there whilst Jack was still a prisoner, bound so cruelly with barbed wire and tortured to within an inch of his life. Owen knew… At least, he was fairly certain that Owen knew. The medic had taken to spending lengthy periods in the autopsy bay, where he could frequently be heard throwing things around in anger.

Ianto shut his eyes.

'Assaulted' was the word he had used top describe the situation to his father, but that barely covered the truth of it. And again, he found himself harbouring the shameful thought that Jack surely wouldn't be too severely affected. Given his overtly sexual behaviour…

Once more, Ianto had to almost physically thrust that thought away. It really was a terrible betrayal to allow it to take hold. Jack, after all, no more deserved to be taken against his will than any other person, and his explicitly-declared enjoyment of sex in no way meant that he would enjoy being raped.

He shut his eyes tightly as the word cut through his mind like a shard of glass. He'd avoided thinking it all this time, but he knew full well that he needed to confront it before Jack recovered physically. He had to, if he had any hopes of giving his friend and lover the support that he was undoubtedly going to need.

There was, of course, no way to know just how Jack was going to deal with the knowledge of what had happened to him, but Ianto simply couldn't seem to bring himself to look beyond the Captain's tendency to blow off any personal issue that he considered to be a weakness of character. Showing pain and fear in front of his team was definitely near the top of that list, and Ianto inadvertently reminded himself of how much Jack must truly hate needing to be looked after like this.

Another case in point was what had happened to Jack whilst he'd been gone. The closest any of them had come to getting him to talk about it had been Gwen. She had apparently cornered him in one of the lower level tunnels, and demanded he tell her where he'd been. She'd come back to the rest of them looking deeply troubled, and saying that all he would tell her was that he had died multiple times, in what they all guessed were pretty horrific circumstances. Beyond that, he gave away nothing else and went on to behave as though nothing had happened that was worth talking about; as though nothing was wrong.

And yet, Ianto had seen a very different truth emerge over the couple of months that Jack had been back home with them.

Nightmares, vivid and terrifying, plagued what little sleep Jack got. More times than Ianto could count, he had been woken in the dead of night to either terrified screams, or desperate pleas to end the pain. Jack claimed to have no memory of the nightmares when daylight came, but his eyes always told a different story. What truths, Ianto wondered, would those beautiful, haunted eyes tell now?

He reached out on impulse and brushed his fingertips over the now unblemished flesh of Jack's lips.

Abducted, assaulted, raped. Jack's body might be recovering from the traumas inflicted on it, but Ianto knew only too well that the heart and mind were a lot harder to heal. Whatever happened from this point on, they were all steering an uncharted course — Jack included.

* * *

When Jack awoke next, he was blessedly free of physical pain. He lay unmoving, relishing the rare comfort that his painless state of being afforded him. However, it was only when he unconsciously shifted his position in the bed and didn't suffer for it, that he realised his lack of pain was not due any longer to Owen's concoction of drugs through the IV unit.

He had movement and feeling in his hands and feet once more, as well as his face. And although he couldn't be sure because of the cast on his arm, he suspected the bone was fully healed.

His body had finished repairing itself, and now it was as though the assault had never happened. He smiled bitterly. Kathy Swanson was going to have kittens when she saw him again. Not that he'd ever harboured any illusions, of course, that he would be able to let her continue investigating what had happened to him. If she couldn't be convinced to turn authority over to Torchwood, then she would have to be ret-conned.

Allowing her into the Hub to see him had been a courtesy, and that was all. He'd felt that he owed her for her kindness and care, but that was as far as it went. She couldn't be allowed to continue the investigation. Even if the police happened to identify any of his attackers, it could never be allowed to go to trial.

An icy numbness settled over him at the thought of dealing with his attackers. And they would be dealt with, Torchwood style. Meaning tracking them down, and ret-conning the shit out of them until they couldn't even remember their own names, and then dumping their sorry arses a thousand miles away, in the coldest and darkest corner of Wales that he could find.

He shuddered involuntarily, slightly spooked at how fast the rage surfaced within him, and had to make a conscious effort to release his grip on the bed sheets. Anger would do no one — least of all him — any good now. What had happened was over with. The best he could do for himself was to shove the memories as deep into the recesses of his mind as he could, and behave like it never happened. He'd done it before, he could do it again.

Grimacing, Jack started to push himself up, irritatingly aware of the tubes and wires still hooked up to his body. He started to pull them out, only to realise he was not alone in the room. Sitting in the chair beside the bed, slumped over and fast asleep, was Ianto.

Jack stared at him wordlessly, his emotions in turmoil. Slowly, he reached out with the intention of touching Ianto's head, but as his fingers came within reach, they began to tremble and his stomach began to twist into knots. One part — a very big part — wanted to wake Ianto up right then, drag the younger man onto the bed with him and screw him senseless. Another part, though, a smaller but no less equally powerful instinct, screamed out to avoid physical contact at all costs.

Slowly, distressed and confused, Jack withdrew his hand. His heart pounding in his chest so hard that it was almost physically hurting him, Jack slid carefully off the bed. He wore a pair of boxer shorts and nothing else, and there didn't appear to be any clothes in sight that he could put on. It didn't matter. He had clothes in his personal space beneath his office.

With a last glance at Ianto's sleeping form, Jack padded silently from the room to go and get dressed.

* * *

_tbc..._


	9. The First Signs of Trauma

Tosh was at her workstation when she heard it; a strange sound, like someone grunting, coming from the autopsy bay. A glance around told her she was alone. Rhys had taken Gwen home, at least for a little while, and Owen had gone for coffee after coming to the conclusion that Ianto would not be dragged away from Jack's side again for something as menial as making coffee.

More than a little nervous, she picked up her gun and made her way to autopsy, not sure what to expect. She was stunned, though, to peer around the corner and discover Jack, sitting on the autopsy table and hacking awkwardly at the cast that encased his right arm. He wore nothing but a pair of boxers and the only marks remaining on his body were the puncture marks from the IV needles. Beyond that, his body appeared completely unscathed.

Heart in her throat, Tosh holstered her gun and ventured slowly down into the autopsy bay.

"Jack?"

He didn't pause, didn't so much as glance at her. He spoke, and his voice was almost cold, emotionless, as though he was trying to mask how he might really be feeling.

"I want this thing off me. Come and help me get it off, Tosh."

She approached with caution. He had a scalpel, and was stabbing at the cast, trying to break it open. He'd gouged a hole in it, but that was all.

"Jack, stop," she begged him anxiously. "Please, you're going to stab yourself with that... not to mention Owen'll have a fit if he sees you doing that with one of his scalpels."

He ceased the action, but didn't release his grip on the scalpel. Still wary, Tosh opened a drawer on the other side of the autopsy bay and removed a saw, designed specifically for removing plaster casts. She switched it on and proceeded to cut the cast away from his arm.

"Owen's going to want to check you over when he comes back," she said tentatively. Jack's gaze was fixed on the scalpel in his hand.

"I'm fine."

"Yes, but..."

"I'm fine," he said tersely.

The cast came away, and Jack sighed softly in relief, flexing his arm and hand. Sliding off the autopsy table, he turned and headed towards the steps that led back up into the Hub. Tosh stared after him, open-mouthed, and he was halfway up the steps before she found her voice.

"Jack, wait!"

He stopped, and looked back at her wordlessly. She floundered for a moment before speaking.

"How... How are you?"

He smiled, then, but she couldn't help but notice that the smile didn't reach his eyes.

"Fine, Tosh," he answered. "I'm fine. If you'll excuse me, I'd really like to put some clothes on."

By the time Tosh recovered enough to move, she reached the main level of the Hub just in time to see Jack disappearing through the hatch, into his private quarters beneath his office. She was still waiting there anxiously, just outside his office, when Owen came back in.

"Tosh?" he queried. "What're you doing?"

She glanced briefly towards Jack's office before speaking uncertainly.

"It's Jack, Owen. He's... you know..."

"Healed?" Owen asked. "So where is he?"

"He went down into his quarters. That was about fifteen minutes ago, and he hasn't come back up yet."

"Okay," Owen muttered. He paused to check the monitor that showed the video feed to the room where Jack had been. He could clearly see Ianto, fast asleep and slumped against the now empty bed. "Okay," he said again. "I'll go and check on Jack. Do me a favour, Tosh, and go get Ianto before he wakes up and has a heart attack because Jack's gone."

"What about Gwen?" Tosh queried as Owen grabbed the Bekaran scanner and headed for Jack's office. "Should I call her?"

Owen hesitated in the doorway. Yes, Gwen would want to know that Jack was up and around again, but at the same time, he doubted the Captain would care to be drowned in the kind of sympathy and worry that Gwen was likely to heap on him.

"No," he decided finally. "Let's try not to smother Jack with concern straight away. Just go and get Ianto, but keep him out here, all right? Don't let him come down into Jack's area unless I holler."

"Owen..."

"What is it, Tosh, love?" he asked with the slightest hint of impatience. Tosh was unable to conceal her own fears.

"There's more, isn't there? More to... to what happened to Jack... More than just the physical torture?"

Owen stared at her for long seconds before turning and heading into Jack's office without another word.

* * *

It was almost pitch black in Jack's private quarters. Owen ventured down the ladder with caution, half expecting to land on Jack when he reached the bottom. He didn't though, and had to take a minute to look around and get his bearings, allowing his vision to adjust to the darkness.

"Jack? You down here mate?"

He felt like a fool, and could only hope Jack was of a mind to answer. He didn't especially fancy going through Jack's private space. Any other time, absolutely, but not now.

"It's not here."

Jack's voice emerged out of the darkness, like a disembodied ghost. Owen ventured forward a couple of steps.

"What's not here?"

Jack didn't answer, and the sound of things being thrown around reached Owen's ears.

"Look, can we turn the lights on?" Owen asked. "Seriously, Jack, this is just a little on the freakish side, you know?"

The sound of things being thrown around ceased, and the sound of beeping reached Owen's ears. A moment beyond that, a light switched on, bathing the area in a dim glow. Owen blinked, and felt his gut clench at the sight of Jack on the other side of the room, standing in front of what appeared to be a closet or cupboard of some sort, with what Owen suspected were most of his clothes scattered around him on the floor. The distress on Jack's face was painfully obvious as he stared into the cupboard.

"It isn't here. Where is it?"

Owen walked forward slowly, his gaze fixed very carefully on Jack.

"Where is what, Jack?"

He kept his voice low and calm, hoping not to startle the Captain at all. Jack motioned towards the cupboard in agitation.

"My coat. It's not upstairs, and it's not down here. Did Ianto take it to the dry cleaners? Is that it?"

Nausea threatened deep in Owen's throat.

"Jack... the police have your coat. We haven't got it back from them yet."

Jack wheeled around to face Owen, and the slightly wild look in his eyes drove the other man back a few steps.

"Why do the police have my coat?"

It was such a straight-forward question, and Owen found himself patently unable to answer. He gaped at Jack, wondering whether the older man was simply trying to deny reality, or if he really had shut the memories out of his conscious mind.

"Jack... They took it as evidence. They've got the SUV as well. We haven't been able to get any of it back yet."

"I want my coat back, Owen," Jack said in a strained, slightly petulant tone. "I want it back right now!"

"We're working on it, Jack," Owen assured him, trying to keep the Captain calm with his most placating tone of voice. "Look, come back up into your office, and let me have a look at you. We'll have Ianto make you a lovely cup of coffee. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Eh, Jack? Just come on up out of this dark little hole, okay?"

Jack blinked hard, as though he was just waking up, and threw a strange look at the medic.

"Why the hell are you talking to me like I'm five years old, Owen?"

Owen stared at him, momentarily taken aback, but he recovered quickly.

"I thought I was talking to you like you were a senior citizen, mate. Which, technically speaking, you are. You ever thought of getting a pension card? Gives you all sorts of brilliant discounts."

Again, Jack shot Owen a look, like he thought the younger man had lost his mind, before adjusting his braces on his shoulders and heading out of his quarters. Owen rolled his eyes in mild exasperation before following Jack out.

Back up in Jack's office, Owen indicated for Jack to sit in his chair. The Captain did so without protest, but it didn't escape Owen's attention that Jack was watching him like a hawk.

"This won't take long," he promised as he brandished the scanner. Jack, however, pulled back from him with a frown when he tried to approach.

"What?" Owen asked, struggling to suppress his growing irritation.

"You promised coffee."

Owen honestly did not know whether to laugh or cry. As it was, it took him a great deal of willpower not to simply smack Jack across the back of his head. Instead, with a restraint that he felt was award-worthy, he stuck his head out of the office door and called to Ianto.

"Oi, Ianto, the Captain would like a coffee. Care to oblige?"

It was a ridiculous question and Ianto, who had been waiting anxiously with Tosh, immediately turned and hurried off to do as requested. With a weary glance at Toshiko, Owen then headed back into the office.

"Okay, Ianto's getting the coffee. Now, do me a favour and hold still, so this doesn't have to take any longer than necessary."

"I'm all right, Owen," Jack insisted softly. Owen only grunted in answer, and proceeded to run the scanner methodically over Jack's body, from head to toe. He was just finishing up when there was a light knock on the door, and Ianto came in bearing a large mug of steaming hot coffee.

"My hero," Jack murmured as he took the offered mug and indulged in a long swallow. Ianto flushed slightly pink, and shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Jack appeared oblivious to his discomfort, but Owen wasn't, and he shot the young Welshman a hard look.

"Well, it seems you're all healed up," Owen confirmed, turning his attention fully back to Jack as he stepped away finally. Jack eyed him with a level of calm that both Owen and Ianto guessed was entirely deceptive.

"I told you I was fine."

"Yes," Owen agreed, wondering how to broach the subject of what had happened without sending Jack into some sort of emotional meltdown. "Yes, you did, but…"

Jack set the mug down on his desk, and slapped his palms together, effectively cutting Owen off.

"Right, enough time wasted. Back to work. Where's Gwen?"

"At home…" Owen answered.

"Call her. Tell her to see about getting the SUV and my coat back from the police, as well as anything else of mine they might be hanging on to. I want it to happen today, people. And where the hell is my wrist strap?"

"Here, don't have a cow," Owen growled, digging into his pocket and tossing the device to Jack. "Detective Swanson had it all along. She used it as leverage to get in here to see you. You know, Jack, she's not going to just give everything else up to us. She doesn't want us to take over her investigation."

"Who said anything about taking over?" Jack asked tonelessly. "We're shutting it down, not taking it over."

Owen gaped incredulously, and a quick sideways glance revealed the same reaction in Ianto.

"Jack..." Ianto started to argue, only to be cut off by the Captain. His tone was calm, but there was an edge of steel to his voice.

"There's nothing to investigate. I know what happened to me." His gaze dropped briefly. "It was no worse than anything that's been done to me in the past."

Owen and Ianto exchanged worried glances. Neither understood what Jack was alluding to, but it sent chills through both men.

"What about the men who attacked you?" Ianto demanded to know. "Are you going to let them get away with it? What if they attack someone else? Or what if they go after you again?"

Jack hesitated, staring up at Ianto quizzically.

"Are you saying you'd care if they did?"

Tears of shock filled Ianto's eyes abruptly.

"Of course I would! How can you even ask that?"

For a split second, Owen thought he was about to be caught in the middle of the domestic to end all domestics. But then the walls went back up, and Jack shook his head.

"They'll be dealt with."

"And who's going to deal with them?" Owen demanded to know. "You? Bloody hell, Jack!"

Jack shot an angry look at Owen.

"Don't you have something to autopsy?"

It took all the willpower Owen had not to simply turn around and walk out. Instead, he leaned forward towards Jack, making silent note of the way Jack flinched away from him.

"Jack, you're our boss, but you're also our friend. Contrary to what you might be telling yourself right now, we do actually care about you. You've been through a pretty fucking bad time, and by all likelihood you're probably still in shock."

Jack sucked in a shaky breath.

"What do you expect me to do, Owen?"

There was the faintest hint of pleading buried somewhere beneath the sour belligerence. Hoping he was taking the right tact, Owen pointed to the manhole.

"Go back down there, lie down and try to get some rest. Preferably not drug-induced. Your body has healed, Jack, but the rest of you is still playing catch-up."

"I'm fine, Owen."

"And I'm your doctor, Jack."

Again, Jack flinched, but said nothing.

"Seriously, Jack," Owen persisted. "You need real rest, and I would really like to not have to slip you on a sedative in your coffee."

Jack didn't bother to ask if he was serious about that threat. He knew damn well that he was. It was a stunt that Owen had pulled more than once before when he believed one of the team was over-exerting themselves.

"Look," Owen tried again, "I'm not saying you have to sleep. Just try and rest. Let us deal with the police. We'll get the SUV back... and your coat. Okay?"

Owen didn't honestly know whether it was that Jack's defences were almost non-existent right then, or simply that he agreed, but Jack conceded with a silent nod, and proceeded to make his way back down into his private quarters.

A moment later, they heard the sound of his bed creaking as he lay down. Owen and Ianto were just about to head out when Jack called out.

"I want Ianto to stay."

Ianto froze and, Owen mused, looked a little on the green side.

"Good luck," Owen muttered, and hurried out of the office. Ianto hesitated for a good minute before climbing down the ladder.

* * *

Jack lay on his bed — not sprawled on the mattress as Ianto had seen him do so often before, but rather curled up into a tight, protective ball.

"What can I do, Jack?" Ianto asked softly, dreading the answer. Jack peered up at him in the darkness.

"Just sit with me?" he asked, and Ianto obliged, sitting down carefully on the edge of the bed.

"Thankyou," Jack whispered, staring up at the younger man with genuine emotion that just about broke Ianto's heart. He spoke, unsure how he was able to keep his voice steady.

"For what?"

"For being here... with me."

He was silent for a while, and Ianto took the liberty of reaching out to gently stroke Jack's temple. After a while, Jack reached up and caught Ianto's hand in his own, pressing it to his lips.

"What is it, Jack?" Ianto asked softly. That time, Jack couldn't maintain eye contact.

"I'm sorry," he said in a voice that was more of a whimper than anything else. "Please... don't leave me."

Ianto was shell-shocked. In all the time he'd known Jack, this was the first time he had heard the man beg. Jack never begged, unless it involved sex.

Quickly stripping off his jacket and tie and abandoning them on the floor, Ianto lay down beside Jack, so they were face to face. He was more shocked still at the sight of tears flowing down Jack's face.

"I'm not going anywhere, Jack. I promise you, I'm not. I love you. I'm not going to leave you."

Jack shifted, and literally burrowed in against him. His hot tears soaked through Ianto's shirt. Disturbed and more than a little frightened, Ianto slipped his arms around Jack's trembling body, and held him as tightly as he dared.

"It's all right," Ianto whispered. "I've got you, anwylyd. I've got you, and I'm not letting you go."

He could feel Jack clinging to him, his distress growing by the minute. Desperate to reassure him, Ianto leaned down and pressed his lips to Jack's.

He felt it within seconds. Jack went rigid in his arms, and Ianto could sense the panic and fear radiating out from him. Drawing back, Ianto peered at Jack, and felt his gut twist horribly at the look of terror that was virtually frozen onto Jack's face.

"Cariad," he whispered anxiously. "C'mon, Jack, snap out of it. Please..."

Out of sheer desperation, when he realised Jack was barely breathing, Ianto resorted to a tactic that Jack had occasionally resorted to when he suffered severe nightmares. Pulling away just a little, he clasped his hands on either side of Jack's face and spoke as firmly as his voice would allow.

"Jack! Snap out of it! You're safe, love, now breathe!"

Jack drew in a ragged gasp of air, and his eyes focused again. The two men stared at each other, Jack's eyes wide with barely contained panic, and red and swollen from shedding tears.

A moment later, the Captain let out a broken sob, and Ianto pulled him close in a protective embrace.

"I've got you," he whispered again, miserable despair tugging at his own heart as he hugged Jack to him. "I've got you."

* * *

_tbc..._


	10. Subterfuge & Betrayals

Kathy Swanson was not the least bit surprised when Gwen Cooper turned up at CID headquarters, demanding the release of the Torchwood SUV, and all other items belonging to Jack that were currently being held as evidence. She went to the front desk, hoping but not hopeful that she might be able to negotiate with the younger woman.

"Miss Cooper," she said, struggling to keep the tension out of her voice. The last thing she needed was an all-in argument with the feisty Torchwood operative in front of all her colleagues. "Come with me, and we'll talk about the situation."

"There's nothing to talk about, Detective Swanson," Gwen answered. "We want the SUV, and everything of Jack's that you still have. That's not negotiable."

"It's all registered evidence, Miss Cooper," Swanson insisted. "As a former police officer, you should know that we can't just hand it all over to you! This is not a Torchwood matter, no matter how much you might try to pretend otherwise. You have to let us handle this."

Gwen shut her eyes briefly, struggling to fend off a threatening headache. She didn't want to be here, arguing with a woman who did not want to recognise the authority of Torchwood.

"Detective Swanson, I'd like this to be as simple and painless as possible for all of us. I am _asking_ you to hand over what belongs to Torchwood. Don't force me to order you in front of your colleagues."

Swanson stared at Gwen, her face set in stone as she realised the corner that she'd been effectively backed into. There was no apparent way out, no negotiation possible, and with the loss of that evidence, it was possible they might have well lost any chance of successfully catching and prosecuting the perpetrators.

"Come with me," she stated coolly, and led the way out of the building, to the yard in which the Torchwood SUV was being kept.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, they were standing by the SUV, waiting for the clothing items to be delivered.

"Nothing was removed from the car by us," Swanson told her sourly. "Nothing's even been processed properly yet. We're so bloody backlogged…"

"I am sorry," Gwen told her sincerely, "really. But we need the car, and Jack needs the clothes."

"For what?" Swanson demanded to know. "It's not as if he'll be moving from that bed anytime soon!"

Gwen didn't respond immediately. Technically she was right, and there was no way that the woman could be allowed to know that Jack had recovered fully from his physical injuries. She made a snap decision and spoke again, all the while trying not to think too hard about all the ways that Jack was going to kill her if he ever found out what she'd done.

"Jack's clothes… How badly damaged are they?"

Swanson looked grim.

"Irreparable. He wasn't just stripped, Miss Cooper. His clothes were pretty torn off his body. They were all destroyed, except for that coat of his. It has a scorch mark on the back of the collar, and some blood on it, but that's about all. Why?"

"Because I'll let you keep the rest of the clothing if you'll let me take his coat."

The detective hesitated.

"You'd turn a blind eye to that?"

"All he wants is his coat," Gwen told her softly. "Damned thing is like a security blanket to him. Now, I'm sorry but I really do need to take the SUV, and everything in it. You can keep the rest of his clothes, though. I doubt he'll miss them."

"Well, I suppose that's better than nothing," Swanson conceded. "About the SUV, though. Like I said, we haven't taken anything about it, but it's more than likely that the attackers did."

"Don't worry, we'll deal with that," Gwen stated firmly. Swanson looked bitter as she turned to go and collect the greatcoat.

"I thought you might."

* * *

Half an hour later, Gwen was on her way back to the Hub with the SUV, and Jack's beloved greatcoat. They would need to take inventory, of course, but she had seen at a glance that there were items missing. The stun guns, most noticeably, were all gone, and that deeply worried her. She tried to concentrate on driving, making an admirable effort to ignore the cracked driver's side window, as well as a very noticeable blood stain on the back seat.

Gwen thought she could guess the basics of what had happened, judging by the state of the vehicle. Jack had taken the SUV to a pub somewhere. Whether he'd planned on simply getting drunk, or had actually intended on bedding someone, she had no way of knowingwithout speaking to Jack. She didn't think it was the latter, though. After all, they all knew Jack and Ianto were together, and though Jack still flirted with everything that breathed, it was clear that he'd slept with no one but Ianto since coming home.

Either way, it baffled her. What had Jack been thinking, going to a pub the night before he was supposed to be spending Christmas Day with Ianto and the rest of the Jones clan? Nerves? Possibly, she mused, but then again she didn't picture Jack as being the type to get nervous at meeting the parents. If anyone was nervous, it should have been Ianto. After all, Jack had such a loud, proud and booming personality, it was all too easy to feel overwhelmed around him. Especially considering the man had no shame, and had a rather painful tendency to embarrass those around him, whether he meant to or not. No, she wouldn't have blamed Ianto for being the nervous one, not at all.

Her gaze was drawn once again to the bloodstain on the backseat. Perhaps, she though, it would be worth it to get it cleaned professionally, rather than subject Ianto to the task.

Blood covered the backseat in thick streaks. Detective Swanson had said that, with the exception of the greatcoat, Jack's clothing had been pretty much destroyed. By the looks of it, they'd been shredded whilst he was still wearing them. She tried hard to stop thinking of that, but all it served to do was trigger her memory of walking into that hospital room, and seeing Jack so cruelly battered and abused, and that in turn led to other, still darker thoughts.

Jack had apparently been naked when he was found, according to the few details Kathy Swanson had given her – naked and secured to a bed. A person didn't need to be a genius to know what that suggested. Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks before she could stop them. She had yet to get Owen alone, and find out whether he knew for sure what she so strongly suspected. Oh, she hoped she was wrong, she really did. But the story that was slowly unfolding seemed bleak indeed.

Jack, of course, was unlikely to admit the truth. In the relatively short time she'd known him, Jack had proven to be notoriously hard to get personal information out of. Even now, he still would not discuss where he had gone or what he'd done when he disappeared with his 'Doctor'.

Gwen just couldn't see Jack even admitting to having been raped, let alone being affected by it in any way. If that was what had happened, though, then they were all in for a very rough ride – Jack most of all.

* * *

Kathy Swanson watched as the Torchwood SUV pulled away, silently cursing Gwen Cooper and the not-so-secret agency that she represented. She knew she shouldn't have been surprised, but she made a vow right then and there to rip into Jack Harkness the next time she was allowed to see him, regardless of his physical state.

"Swanson?"

She looked around to see her Superintendent standing just behind her, a slightly amused look on his face.

"Yes, sir?"

"You let Torchwood take their vehicle."

There was no criticism in his voice, just simple resignation. He knew as well as she did that they had no possibility of usurping Torchwood's authority.

"Yes, sir."

"And you told the woman...?"

"That nothing had been processed yet."

The Superintendent couldn't quite hide a smirk.

"They'll have our hides when they find out."

"Hopefully we'll have found the men who attacked Captain Harkness long before they do find out."

"We're not doing this to show up Torchwood," he stated quietly, and she shook her head.

"No, sir."

"All right. Just tell me that you have multiple hard copies of all the processed evidence? You know that lot can hack our systems."

Swanson answered with a nod.

"Yes, sir. I made sure to give..."

He held a hand up, silencing her.

"No. I don't want to know. Better if I don't. Just make sure you come to me when you're ready to make an arrest. I'll need to be the one to get the warrant."

She nodded again, watching with a smile as he turned and strode from the room.

"Yes, sir."

* * *

"Do you think he's resting?" Toshiko asked nervously as Owen attempted to concentrate on a multitude of tests that he was running.

"I don't know, Tosh. I hope he is, but you know what Jack is like."

"Well, if anyone can get him to relax, it's Ianto."

It was a very deliberately made remark, and it got a reaction. Owen's gaze snapped up to meet hers, and Tosh did not like what she saw there.

"Owen, what's going on?" she asked tensely. "Please talk to me. You know why Jack didn't leave with Ianto on Christmas Eve, don't you?"

He wanted to brush off the question, he really did. Instead, though, he found himself telling her the truth.

"Jack didn't leave with Ianto because our wonderful teaboy took back his invitation. He decided that pretending he was straight in front of his family was more important in the end."

Tosh stared at Owen in shock and disbelief.

"What? Ianto wouldn't have done that!"

"Oh no? What, you think Jack's the only one capable of being a bastard? Take off the rose-tinted glasses, Tosh. Don't you remember how quiet Jack was over the couple of days before Christmas? Not a single innuendo or inappropriate comment to any of us. And you know what the worst of it is? I think Jack believes it's his fault. I think that _he_ thinks he's done something to deserve Ianto giving him the cold shoulder."

Toshiko fell silent, contemplating Owen's words. It made a bitter kind of sense. Now she thought of it, she remembered thinking that Jack's behaviour was a little on the odd side. He seemed to go out of his way to help Ianto out... almost as though he was trying to make up for something.

"Well... maybe Jack did do or say something..." she said tentatively, trying to make a show of support for the young Welshman who had become such a good friend.

"Not this time, Tosh," Owen said bluntly. "This time, it was all Ianto. Jack's only crime was not having the discretion to hide who he is."

Tosh took a moment to digest what Owen was telling her, and her stomach rolled unpleasantly.

"Oh god... So Ianto took back the invitation... Jack goes off somewhere on his own instead... You think he might have been looking... you know... for someone to..."

"Shag? Maybe. Couldn't say I blame him, either. I knew something had upset him before Christmas. Just never imagined it might have been Ianto." Owen uttered a short, bitter laugh. "And you and Gwen were so fucking worried that Ianto was going to get hurt, being involved with Jack."

Just at that moment, the large cog door of the Hub rolled back, and Gwen walked in, Jack's greatcoat folded up in her arms.

"Got the coat," she announced. "Couldn't get the rest of his clothes, though. Totally destroyed. There wasn't anything left to bring back."

"Well, what about the SUV?" Owen wondered. "You didn't forget that, did you?"

"Don't be a prat, Owen. It's in the garage. Listen, I think we need to call someone in to repair the damage. We can't expect Ianto to do it. Especially the backseat. It's covered in Jack's blood."

Owen stared at her, frowning for a long moment before switching to another line of inquiry.

"You collected all of their reports, didn't you?"

"No, it'll all be on computer," Gwen answered. "Trust me, they don't make hard copies of anything these days. It's all electronic. And she said nothing had been processed, but I don't believe that. Tosh, you'll need to hack the system and clean it out."

"Consider it done," Tosh said, grateful to have something to focus on after her discomforting conversation with Owen.

"Where's Ianto?" Gwen asked, looking around carefully. "With Jack?"

"Yeah," Owen confirmed. "It was the only way to get the dear Captain to go and rest."

"Well, can I have a word, then?" she asked, trying to keep her tone as passive as she could. She wondered, though, if he already knew what she wanted to ask, because he turned and led the way to the upper gantry, bypassing the boardroom in favour of the greenhouse.

"All right, Gwen, out with it. What do you want to know?"

She decided not to pull any punches.

"Was Jack raped?"

For a good several seconds, Owen could only blink at her in shock. He'd half anticipated that was what she wanted to know, but he also hadn't been prepared for hyper-sensitive Gwen to just blurt it out, either. He knew there was no denying it, though. She already knew, and was just waiting for him to confirm it.

Owen's shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Yes," he answered dully. "He was."

Silence blanketed them, and Owen shifted uncomfortably under Gwen's inscrutable stare.

"What?" he asked finally. "Spit it out, will you?"

She shook her head.

"Sorry. I was just waiting for you to make some crack about it being no big deal for Jack."

The look on Owen's face at that could only be described as cold fury.

"You fucking bitch, Gwen Cooper. I'm a blood doctor, in case you'd forgotten. I'm tipping I saw more rape cases in A&E than you ever did as a bloody PC. I know what rape can do to a person, no matter who they are or what they do. I will not trivialise what happened to Jack just because he can have a tendency to act slutty, and fuck you for assuming I would!"

Gwen sucked in a long breath, looking suitably chastened for her crass assumption.

"I'm sorry, Owen. I just assumed... I'm sorry, really sorry."

He nodded, slightly placated by the sincere apology.

"Okay, then."

"So... how is he, then?"

"Not good," Owen admitted unhappily. "Oh, he was trying to act like everything was fine, but it's not. He's not fine, not by a long shot."

"What do we do, then?" Gwen wondered, feeling all the more distressed. "I mean, it's not like we can send him to a shrink. We can't even let him out of the Hub yet! We'll never be able to explain how he healed so fast!"

"Shit, you're right," Owen muttered. "How the fuck do we keep him shut away down here, without freaking him out?"

Neither had an answer for that, and they were still contemplating their very limited possibilities when Tosh's voice came through clearly on their comms.

"Owen, Gwen, we have a slight problem. You'd both better come down here."

They went at a hurry, compelled by the distress they could hear in Tosh's voice and dreading what they were going to see. Tosh was standing by her monitor, motioning in agitation to the screen.

"Someone leaked the story to the media! It's on nearly every channel! They identified Jack by name!"

"Oh god," Gwen whispered as they watched a fairly lengthy news bulletin that reported the grim details of what happened to Jack, complete with three particularly graphic pictures of Jack from the crime scene, his supposed current physical state and finished by informing the public that police were proceeding as best as they could, given Torchwood's 'disappointing level of cooperation'.

"Those bloody fuckers!" Owen exploded. "If they think they're going to get us to cooperate like that, then they've got another thing coming. Tosh, get cracking on those computer files... but make sure you make copies for us before deleting them from the police computers."

"What are you thinking?" Gwen asked.

"Jack said he wanted the investigation shut down totally. I'm sorry, but I can't do that. Those sick fucks raped him, for God's sake!"

Where she was sitting at her monitor, Tosh froze, staring up at Owen in horror. He didn't acknowledge her reaction directly, but wondered silently just what she'd been expecting to hear.

"We're going to deal with this ourself, in our own way," Owen went on fiercely. "We are gonna find the bastards who hurt our Captain, and make sure they can't hurt him or anyone else again."

* * *

At the same time elsewhere in Cardiff, Kathy Swanson stood in stony silence as the news broadcast played out. Until now, the identity of Jack as the Christmas Day assault victim had stayed a closely kept secret. Now, though, his name was being splashed all over the media, along with a few fairly graphic crime scene photos.

She could feel her blood pressure rising with every second that passed. Torchwood was going to be beyond pissed at this, and for once she believed they had every right to be. Turning, she stalked out of the room to go in search of the one colleague whom she knew for a fact was enough of a bastard to do that to a victim.

* * *

She found Derek Lloyd in the break room, laughin raucously with a number of colleagues. There was no need to wait and listen – she knew exactly what... and who... Lloyd and his mates were laughing at. Storming forward, she ploughed through the group of officers and, upon reaching Lloyd, punched him as hard as she could in his face.

Another wave of laughter swept over the group, only to be silenced by the fury on the woman's face.

"You fucking bastard, Lloyd," she snarled. "You leaked Harkness's name to the media, didn't you! Along with those pictures!"

Lloyd glared up at her sourly. His nose was already free-flowing blood.

"So what if I did? Why should he get anymore special treatment than anyone else? Why the fuck should we worry about protecting him?"

"Because he's the victim here, you sorry sack of shit!" she exploded. "Not the bloody perpetrator. I don't care how much you... any of you hate the man personally. He deserved to have his dignity protected, and you just went an crushed it into the ground. I hope you feel _really_ proud of yourself."

By that time, Lloyd had managed to get to his feet, but even though he towered over her in phyical stature, she suddenly seemed much taller than him in the eyes of her colleagues.

"He's an arrogant bastard, Kathy," Lloyd argued. "So I've knocked him a peg or two, what's the fucking big deal? Not like his ego couldn't do with a reality check."

She glared at him with a look that would have frozen fire.

"From where I'm standing, it isn't Jack Harkness whose ego needs a reality check. It's yours."

She turned to go, only to hear Lloyd mutter under his breath.

"I can't believe you're actually defending that sick fuck..."

She stopped almost in mid-stride, and turned slowly back to face him.

"You can't believe it? Is that right? Well, Lloyd, let me tell you who it is that I'm standing here defending, since you apparently don't have a clue. Three days ago, a man was ambushed while going about his own business."

"You mean on the pull for some pretty boy, probably," someone snorted derisively. Swanson glowered in the general direction the remark had come from.

"What if he was? Since when have we been in the business of making moral judgements? I don't recall hearing similar comments when that prostitute was raped three months ago."

An uncomfortable silence reigned as they each reluctantly acknowledged the truth of her words. She went on in a fractionally more subdued tone.

"Three days ago, a man was ambushed and taken against his will. He was restrained with fucking _barbed wire_, and then he was beaten, tortured, raped and sodomised, and eventually left for dead. Most people would have died after enduring what this man did, but he _didn't_. He held on until he was found. Then, on top of what he'd already been through, he had to suffer a stream of coppers parading through and _laughing_ at him! When they bloody well should have been doing whatever they could to offer support! But even then, he didn't quit. He didn't quit when he was screaming in pain while they cut him free, and he didn't quit when he had to undergo over two hours of surgery to get the barbed wire out of his skin. I saw him yesterday. Torchwood let me in to see him, and talk to him. He was laid up in bed, couldn't move or talk and was in more pain than I reckon any of us here could cope with, but he still managed to find a way to communicate and tell me the number of men who attacked him.

"Now, love him or hate him, Jack Harkness survived an ordeal that no one should ever have to endure, and you all bloody well owe him respect! If you can't give him that much, at least... Well, then you don't deserve your ranks."

She favoured them all with a furious look before finally storming out. It wasn't until he was sure she'd gone that Lloyd dared to speak again.

"Un-fucking-believable! Not two months ago, she was bitching about him right along with the rest of us!"

"She's right, though," someone spoke up in a noticeably quiet voice. "Doesn't matter who he is, or what we think of him. He's still the victim here. You shouldn't have leaked his name to the media like that, Derek. Or those pictures."

Lloyd scowled, unrepentant and all the more annoyed that he seemed to be losing the support of his mates.

"C'mon! It's Jack fucking Harkness! Since when did we give a shit about his sensitivities? Since when did he even have any fucking sensitivities?"

Silence, and then...

"Fuck, Kathy was right. You _are_ a heartless bastard."

And then Lloyd was left standing there in helpless silence as his colleagues filed from the room. The last one to leave hesitated in the doorway and shot Lloyd a sympathetic look.

"If I were you, Derek, I wouldn't be worried about Kathy Swanson."

"Oh?" Lloyd growled defensively. "And why's that?"

"Because when Torchwood gets a hold of you, you are seriously fucked."

* * *

Swanson virtually threw herself into her chair, frustrated and angry. She'd hoped to have been able to get Lloyd to see her point of view, but he was apparently not going to be dissuaded from his prejudices. He had been right in one respect, though. She had no real liking for Jack Harkness, not personally. However, she'd meant what she said. She respected him as a survivor. What she wanted now was to give him the justice and closure that she honestly believed he would need in order to carry on surviving.

Unfortunately, Lloyd's heartless actions had only made that so much more difficult for Jack to do.

"Excuse me, Detective Swanson?"

She looked up to find one of the PCs assigned to her office standing there, waiting for her to respond.

"What is it?" she asked, not particularly in the mood to be talking to anyone right then. Right then, all she wanted was to be left alone to brood.

"What is it?" she asked, the question coming out a fraction sharper than she'd really intended it to. The young constable, however, was not put off by her surly attitude.

"Ma'am, I was asked to come and get you. There's a couple at the front desk with their twelve year-old lad."

"And...? What's your point, Constable?"

"Well, Ma'am, apparently the boy was playing near the Bute Park estates on Christmas Eve and... well, it appears that we might have a witness to the Harkness assault."

* * *

_tbc..._


	11. Communication

Ianto awoke to deafening silence, and an empty bed. He lay still for a minute or two, slightly disoriented and not entirely sure where he was. It was only as he rolled over and caught a whiff of the powerful scent of Jack that he remembered. A moment beyond that, it registered in his slightly addled mind that he was actually alone in the bed. He sat up with a jolt and scrambled up the ladder into Jack's office. The Captain sat at his desk, filling out what looked at a glance like a requisition form, and looking for the world like nothing was wrong.

The younger man did slight double-take, and promptly corrected himself. Jack sat at his desk, wearing his greatcoat. No, not just wearing it – he had it fully buttoned up, like it was some kind of protective shield. Ianto's breath quickened, and not from excitement. The greatcoat, when it was buttoned up completely like this, closed around Jack's throat at the collar. Jack hated the feeling of anything around his throat, and for that reason Ianto had only ever seen him fully button the coat on a handful of occasions, usually when it was pouring rain.

For him to be sitting at his desk, with it fully enclosed right up to his throat – when he normally did not even wear the coat around the Hub at all – told Ianto that Jack was as far from being okay as he could get. He approached slowly, desperate not to do anything that might panic Jack all over again.

"Jack…?"

The Captain looked up and smiled, but it seemed to Ianto that it was an automatic gesture. There was no warmth, and it did not reach his eyes.

"Feeling better? You must have been tired, you slept for nearly four hours."

Ianto was barely able to control his urge to gape.

"I believe the idea was to get _you_ to rest, Jack. How long have you been up here?"

"Not long," Jack answered, his eyes flickering nervously back and forth between Ianto and the paperwork in front of him. "Really, I only came back up about ten minutes ago."

Slowly, Ianto approached the desk.

"Did you sleep at all?"

"No…" Jack admitted uncomfortably. "But then, Owen said I didn't have to. He just said I needed to rest… and I did."

Ianto couldn't argue with that logic. Jack _did_ appear calmer than he had been earlier, although he did wonder how long the façade would last.

"Are you… I mean… How are you feeling?" Ianto asked, and immediately wanted to slap himself up-side the back of his head for asking such an inane question. Jack, for his part, didn't appear too perturbed by it.

"I'm okay," he answered after a moment's thought. He paused, and then flashed Ianto a disarming grin. "Coffee? Please…?"

"Of course," Ianto agreed automatically and turned to go and do as asked, while at the same time he wanted to scream aloud in frustration. He knew damned well that he had to talk to Jack about what had happened before Christmas, but Jack's insistence on behaving as though nothing was wrong was only making it that much harder. Then again, he had to concede that this time it wasn't Jack who should be making the effort. It was him.

Coffee, he decided wearily. Everything would be easier with a nice, healthy dose of caffeine. It occurred to him that perhaps he should be supplying Jack with a decaf brand, rather than his usual, heavily caffeinated brand, only to promptly dismiss the thought. To begin with, Jack would probably have his hide. And secondly, he simply didn't keep decaf in the Hub. No one drank it, not when he so willingly supplied them with the real thing.

"Yan…"

Ianto paused in the doorway, schooling himself not to react at all to Jack's use of that much-loathed shortening of his name.

"What is it, Jack?"

He wondered whether perhaps he'd allowed some of his irritation to filter through regardless as Jack hesitated in responding. He turned back fully, and offered Jack a warm smile, despite the chill that was gradually forming deep in his gut.

"Before… You did believe me… didn't you? When I said I was sorry? We are okay… aren't we?"

The uncertainty and fear in Jack's eyes was more than Ianto could stand, and it took superb mastery of will not to simply rush over and kiss Jack soundly on the mouth to reassure him. After what had happened earlier in Jack's little room, Ianto was reluctant to even touch him, for fear of triggering a panic attack.

Taking care not to move suddenly, Ianto walked back and crouched down in front of Jack, putting himself in a deliberately submissive position. He avoided taking hold of Jack by the wrists or hands, and instead settled for resting his hands lightly on Jack's knees.

"Jack, you have nothing to apologise for. You haven't done anything wrong, I promise you."

Jack said nothing, but the look on his face clearly told Ianto that he didn't believe him. Ianto felt a fresh surge of frustration that he had a hard time concealing. Getting frustrated with Jack now would solve nothing, and only end up opening a whole new can of worms. On the other hand, Ianto really did not want to tell him the truth, either. At least, not yet. God only knew what it would do to Jack's already fragile state of mind to be told that his lover had been too ashamed of him to let him meet his family.

Ianto shut his eyes, silently begging for a strength that he honestly didn't believe he possessed, and for the right words to convince Jack that he was not to blame for anything at all.

He felt a tentative, exploratory touch of fingers in his hair and instinctively tilted his head towards that inquisitive touch, eager to show Jack that his touch was still a welcome thing. Opening his eyes, he looked up at Jack with the most reassuring smile that he could muster.

"Why don't I go and get that coffee for you, then?"

Jack's hand withdrew, and Ianto stood up slowly. He started to go, but then turned back and leaned down to kiss Jack softly on the top of his head. It was an innocent enough gesture, but even so Ianto felt Jack flinch at the gentle and loving touch, and he felt his heart break for his lover.

"I'll be right back," Ianto reassured him. "I promise."

* * *

Ianto emerged from Jack's office to find his colleagues working with renewed vigour. He joined them, observing their frenetic work with mild curiosity.

"What's going on?" he wondered. Owen, who was on his way back down into the autopsy bay, paused to glance surreptitiously towards the closed door of Jack's office before answering.

"We're going to find the bastards who hurt Jack, and deal with them."

Ianto stared at Owen in surprise and mild concern.

"_Deal_ with them? How? You can't kill them, Owen… as much as we might like to."

"I know. Pity about that. No, we're going to find them, and ret-con the fuckers… maybe even fit them up for a murder or two. Either way, Jack'll never have to worry about them again."

"Owen…"

"No!" Owen snapped. "Damn it, they hurt our Captain, Ianto! Like you said, we can't kill them, but we can damn well make sure that they'll never hurt anyone ever again. Especially Jack."

"That's all well and good," Ianto said tensely, "but you're going to be competing with the police over it. You know Detective Swanson isn't going to let it go, no matter how many times you pull rank."

Owen snorted.

"So we'll ret-con her, too, if we have to. Probably should've done that anyway after letting her in here to see him."

Ianto gritted his teeth together and resisted the powerful desire to answer back. Anything he might have wanted to say right then would only get him into trouble, so it simply wasn't worth it.

"Where is Jack?" Owen asked suddenly, frowning. "Still resting?"

"Depends on your concept of resting. He's sitting at his desk."

"Doing what?" Gwen asked, speaking up for the first time.

"Staring blankly at a requisition form when I last looked," Ianto answered flatly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I promised him fresh coffee."

He hurried off before more questions could be forthcoming. After just a moment's hesitation, Tosh got up and followed him.

* * *

He was halfway through brewing a fresh pot for Jack when he heard footsteps approaching him from behind. Too light for Owen, it had to be either Tosh or Gwen.

"Ianto…?"

It was Tosh. He felt relieved, not entirely sure that he could have coped with Gwen right at that moment. Carefully schooling his expression into one of polite indifference, he turned to face her... and froze. The look on her face caught him entirely off-guard. It was not the look of general anxiety that they had all been sporting since learning about the assault on their Captain. This was a look of pure disappointment, and all of a sudden Ianto was at a loss for words.

"I spoke to Owen," she said tentatively. "He, um… He said that Jack never left with you on Christmas Eve because you… you took back the invitation to spend Christmas Day with your family."

Ianto could feel the blood draining from his face, even as she watched him with a look that pled for him to refute the accusation. It had been hard enough dealing with this with Owen. He wasn't sure that he could take it from Tosh as well.

She came forward slowly, tears in her eyes.

"I just want to know why, Ianto. Please explain it to me, because I don't understand. Why would you do that to Jack? You must know how much he'd been looking forward to spending the day with you and your family…"

"I know," Ianto whispered, feeling his eyes start to burn in a telltale and unwelcome sign that he was about to lose control of his emotions. "Damn it, I know."

"Then why? Did he do something? Or say something?"

"No!" Ianto choked out. "God, no… It wasn't him, Tosh. It wasn't him at all. It was me, being a bloody fool. I… I just never realised how badly I'd hurt Jack until it was too late."

She took his hands in hers, and squeezed gently.

"So, when you came running back into the Hub…?"

"I was hoping to catch Jack before he went anywhere," Ianto admitted miserably. "He left a… He left something in my car for me, and I wanted to tell him I was sorry, and that he could still come with me if he wanted to. But I was too late."

Tosh felt tears in her own eyes. She understood Ianto's grief. Had he been just a minute or two sooner, he would have intercepted Jack, kept him from leaving, and everything that followed might never have happened. It was a possibility that could easily drive them all insane. She squeezed his hands again.

"Talk to me, Ianto. Tell me why."

He drew in a shuddering breath, trying to find the words to explain.

"I was scared," he admitted finally. "I was scared that my parents would react badly to Jack. They… They don't know, Tosh. They don't know that I'm… that I'm not strictly heterosexual. I can't tell them that I have a boyfriend, they'd never accept it. If Jack had come with me on Christmas Day, it would have blown everything out of the water. You know what Jack is like, he wouldn't be able to help himself. He'd say or do something… and my dad isn't stupid. He'd figure it out… and all because Jack can't bloody keep his hands to himself… or just doesn't know when to keep his mouth shut." He shook his head in distress. "It was my fault, I should never have invited him in the first place. I got all caught up in the so-called Christmas spirit, and forgot that Jack wouldn't know the meaning of discretion if it bit him on the bloody arse!"

He'd just finished speaking when Tosh uttered a tiny gasp, and dismay filled her eyes. Ianto's stomach dropped unpleasantly, and with growing nausea he turned around slowly. Jack stood there, staring at Ianto with a look of hurt on his face that cut Ianto to the very core.

"Jack…"

"I'm sorry," Jack stammered. "I…"

Abruptly, he turned and bolted, cutting across the floor of the Hub, and out through the cog door before any of them could stop him.

"What the hell did you say to him now?" Owen exploded as he came back up from the autopsy bay in time to see Jack vanish through the door.

"Never mind that!" Gwen snapped. "We have to stop him from leaving! Tosh, can you trigger a lockdown?"

"If I do, it'll be a full one, and we'll be stuck here for the next six hours!" Tosh exclaimed.

"Just do it," Owen told her. "If he gets out, God only knows where he might disappear to, and he is not in a fit state of mind to be wandering around the bloody city on his own!"

Tosh ran to her monitor and her fingers flew over the keyboard.

"Ianto, get your arse upstairs and go after him," Owen snapped angrily. "You made this mess, start doing something to fix it."

Ianto didn't hesitate, but bolted through the cog door just seconds before it rolled closed with a heavy thud.

* * *

Jack ran up the stairs blindly. He didn't know where he was going to go once he was out of the Hub. All he knew was that he couldn't stay with Ianto when the younger man had made it painfully obvious that his company was not wanted.

Pain that was not of the physical kind cut through Jack as he tried to reconcile what he had heard Ianto tell Tosh. He wasn't to blame, Ianto had insisted to his face. He had nothing to be sorry for… And then he'd turned around and told Tosh… what? He had basically told Tosh that he was too embarrassed by him to risk letting him meet his family.

Jack prided himself on being relatively thick-skinned, but that truly hurt. As he ran up the long flight of steps to the surface level, another voice, insidious and evil, whispered in the back of his mind.

_You really are a freak, aren't you? Your own lover can't even stand to have you around._

He reached the surface level and, with a choked sob, lunged against the door just as it swung closed and locked with a definitive click. He grunted loudly with the effort of trying to open it, but to no avail. The security door that led through into the tourist office was locked tight.

"Tosh activated a lockdown," a voice behind him explained, and Jack turned to find Ianto standing there at the top of the stairs, hands braced on his knees as he struggled to catch his breath. "Doors won't open again for another six hours."

"Why?" Jack demanded. Ianto hesitated, trying somewhat belatedly to choose his words with care.

"You can't leave the Hub yet, Jack."

A bitter look filled Jack's face.

"Scared I'll do something to embarrass you?"

Ianto winced at the tone as much as the words. He had never heard Jack sound as deeply hurt as he did right at that moment, and it tore him apart to know that he was partly responsible.

"Jack, I am sorry…"

He took a step forward, only to stop when Jack cringed back, away from him. Was it simply that Jack was too upset to want to allow him to get close, or was it an instinctive reaction born of his horrific experience just a couple of days ago? Ianto didn't know, and decided it was not the time or the place to test it out. Conceding, he sat down on the cold, dirty floor and leant back against the wall. After a long moment, Jack slowly mirrored the movement, sliding to the floor and tugging the greatcoat even more tightly around his body.

"I owe you an explanation," Ianto said quietly after a long, discomforting minute of silence. Jack said nothing, just stared back at him. Ianto went on with difficulty, forcing himself to hold Jack's gaze as he spoke.

"I wanted you with me on Christmas Day. I really did, Jack."

Silence. Ianto swallowed an instinctive desire to sigh, or roll his eyes. He needed to do everything he could to ensure Jack could see he was utterly serious.

"I'm not ashamed of you. I'm ashamed of myself for being afraid." He paused, and then launched into the explanation that he knew he should have given to Jack right from the beginning. "My parents are Roman Catholic. Strict Roman Catholic. To them, anything that deviates from heterosexuality is a mortal sin. I love my parents, Jack, I really do… and I was terrified over what would happen if they found out that I'm seeing another man."

"Why did you invite me, then?"

The question was so soft that Ianto nearly missed it.

"Because you're as important to me as my family, and I wanted to spend Christmas with you," Ianto answered equally softly. Jack looked away, rubbing self-consciously at his eyes.

"And yet you obviously thought it wouldn't bother me, taking back the invitation."

It was a statement of fact, not a question. Ianto ran his fingers through his hair, wondering if there was any way to say what he needed to say without hurting Jack even worse than he already had.

"I… I thought you weren't as serious about us."

Jack glanced up at him, and the bitter hurt in his eyes left Ianto reeling.

"You thought I couldn't possibly love you."

Ianto felt his stomach roll ominously.

"Yes," he admitted in a miserable whisper. Tears glistened in Jack's eyes, and this time he made no attempt to wipe them away or hide them from Ianto.

"Of course you did. Everyone thinks that. Jack's just a heartless bastard. Jack's just out for a good time. Jack wouldn't know what love was if it bit him on the ass."

As much as he wanted to refute him, Ianto couldn't. He and the rest of the team were all guilty of that assumption. Granted, Jack's playboy behaviour hadn't necessarily gone a long way towards changing that opinion, but even so…

And then, all of a sudden, he found himself thinking of Estelle. He hadn't really thought about her before now – the story Jack had given them had been that his father and Estelle had been in love during the war… except, now Ianto suddenly realised the truth. It hadn't been Jack's father, but rather Jack himself who had been in love with Estelle.

"You loved Estelle," he said softly. Jack nodded.

"Her… and others. I meant what I said to you that night, before we sent Tommy back to his own time. I didn't say it just to manipulate you into sleeping with me again. I just… I don't understand, Ianto. Why is it that everyone thinks I'm incapable of loving someone?"

"Because we don't understand," Ianto said softly. "You don't belong to this time, do you? The night we caught Myfanwy, we said something about fifty-first century pheromones. Is that when you're from? The fifty-first century?"

Jack hesitated for just a moment before deciding that he had little left to lose, and might as well speak openly.

"Yes. A little colony in the fifty-first century, called Boeshane. We have… different ideals about relationships than you people in the twenty-first century. People still got married and settled down, but multiple partners were common. It was an accepted fact that we were capable of loving more than one person, and no one believed there was a need to restrict ourselves to one lover. Religion was pretty much just a footnote in the history books by then, so we didn't have the same moral compass that we were expected to live our lives by. As long as we weren't hurting anyone else, no one really cared what anyone else did. And besides, humans are so few and far between by then that we tend to take it whenever it's on offer."

Ianto smiled, despite himself.

"Well, that certainly explains a lot."

Jack smiled faintly as well, the first real smile that Ianto had seen from him since… well, since before Christmas. He paused, and then decided to take another chance.

"Jack… Do you love me the same as you loved Estelle?"

"No," Jack answered without hesitation. Ianto's heart sank, but he had no chance to let the feeling take hold as Jack continued to speak. "I was able to walk away from Estelle. It hurt, but I did it. I can't walk away from you, Ianto. I tried once, but it was like trying to unlearn how to breathe. I couldn't do it. But more than that… I didn't _want_ to do it. I didn't want to even think about living without you. With Estelle, I left because I didn't want to deal with the hurt of eventually losing her. With you, I can't walk away because I don't want to face losing you without all the memories that we have a chance to make between us."

Ianto raised an eyebrow bemusedly.

"You're being borderline romantic, Jack."

Jack didn't smile, but looked away bitterly.

"Another thing everyone thinks I only use for my own sexual convenience."

"I'm sorry," Ianto whispered. "Jack, I am so sorry. I wouldn't blame you if you didn't want anything more to do with me after this."

Jack's head snapped back around, and he stared hard at the younger man through a thin veil of tears.

"Weren't you listening to me? Did you hear anything I just said? I told you, I _can't_ walk away from you. No matter how much it hurts, I just can't. I… I love you too much to ever want to let you go."

The last sentence came out in a barely audible whisper, and Ianto felt his head spin. He suspected he knew how much it cost Jack to make such a raw admission, and he decided quickly that it couldn't go unanswered – not if they were to have any chance at all. He shuffled across the floor to sit beside Jack. The other man winced a little in reaction to Ianto's physical proximity but, encouragingly, did not pull away.

"I love you, too, Jack. I know I hurt you badly, and I am sorry. I never meant to. Can you forgive me?"

Jack looked slowly around at him, and beyond the very palpable pain that Ianto could see in his lover's eyes, there was also a spark of hope, mixed with a healthy dose of wariness.

"I can't change who I am, Ianto."

"I don't want you to change, Jack. God, this is going to sound corny, but I have to say it. I love you for who you are, and I wouldn't want you to change. I'm the one who needs to change. I need to stop being afraid of what other people think. You're the only one whose opinion should matter to me."

He paused, and then reached a hand up to rest gently on Jack's shoulder. When there was no adverse reaction from the Captain, Ianto slid his arm across the expanse of Jack's shoulders and encouraged him to lean in against him. Jack did so with some reticence, and Ianto resisted the urge to try and force him. Jack's trust had been badly shaken in more ways than one, and he was under no illusions about the time and effort it would take to repair the damage.

Eventually, Jack began to relax just a fraction, and Ianto smiled sadly as he felt Jack's head settle against his shoulder. He knew the others were probably itching to know what was happening, but he had no intention of insisting that Jack move… regardless of how cold and uncomfortable the concrete floor was. Right then, he was just happy to have made some small connection with his lover once again. It wasn't much, but it was enough to build on, and that was all that mattered to Ianto right at that moment.

* * *

"Oh, thank God," Gwen whispered as she, Owen and Tosh watched on the CCTV as Jack settled in against Ianto where they sat in the dim corridor near the doorway into the tourist office. Owen, however, turned away from the monitor, a grim look on his face.

"Don't start thanking anyone yet, Gwen. We haven't even started to see the worst of it, yet. I guarantee it."

* * *

_tbc..._


	12. The Illusion of Control

A/N: **'**_**Cara 'ch, anwylyd asgre**_**' **roughly translates as **'**_**I love you, dear heart**_**'**. If that's wrong, blame the free online translator.

* * *

Kathy Swanson smiled warmly as she walked into the room where the parents were waiting with their son. The boy was a ghastly white colour and looked utterly terrified, and he damn near jumped three feet out of his chair when she walked in.

"Hello, Thomas," she greeted the boy warmly, before turning to his parents. "Mr and Mrs Carr, thankyou both for bringing Thomas in to talk to us."

"We're just sorry it took him until now to speak up," Edward Carr said gravely. "If he'd told us what he'd seen right from the start…"

"Please, Mr Carr. Don't think like that. There's no point, and I give Thomas full credit for speaking up now. Thomas?"

The boy looked up, his eyes reflecting the fear he was feeling. She smiled at him again, anxious to reassure him.

"You're not in any trouble, Thomas. You do know that, don't you? You're just here to talk about what you saw."

He nodded, and pushed a thick shock of curly hair out of his eyes so that he could look at her properly.

"Start at the beginning, Thomas," Kathy encouraged him. "Tell me everything you can remember. Even if it doesn't seem, very important to you, it is important to us."

The boy considered her words for a moment before speaking.

"I was with a mate. It was Christmas Eve…. It was kinda late."

"How late?" Kathy asked, and the boy glanced nervously at his parents before answering.

"About nine-thirty."

There was an odd noise from Mrs Carr, but she said nothing.

"Go on, Thomas," Kathy urged him.

"Well, me and Alex were hanging out at that estate in Bute Park. You know, 'cause it's empty, and there's never anyone to tell us to get lost, and we can do whatever we want. We were…"

Again, he trailed off, his eyes darting fearfully to his parents. Seeing the need to get his son to keep talking, Mr Carr decided it was time to offer a proverbial olive branch.

"Thomas, I'll make you a deal. You be totally honest and tell Detective Swanson everything, and this time we'll overlook whatever you were doing. Clean slate, okay? Just tell her what happened."

Thomas sighed, and nodded. He didn't look entirely convinced over the clean slate part, but continued talking regardless.

"We were sharing a cigarette that Alex nicked from his big sister. We'd never done it before, honest! We just wanted to know what it was like."

Kathy smiled, quietly amused.

"And?"

Thomas pulled a face.

"It was gross. Don't know why adults like it so much. I wanted to be sick, and Alex _was_ sick."

She fought the urge to laugh, and noted his parents were doing the same.

"All right, Thomas. You and your mate were having a cigarette in the Bute Park Estate at nine-thirty on Christmas Eve night. What happened then?"

"Well, we were just getting ready to go when this car pulled up. Alex panicked and took off, but I hung around."

"What sort of car was it?"

"This big, black SUV, really big. It had 'Torchwood ' on the door. That's kind of why I hung around. I thought that it was that Torchwood lot. I thought they'd come to look at something weird... 'cause that's what they do. They check out all the freaky weird shi... I mean, stuff. Anyway, the doors opened, and these men got out... five or six of 'em, altogether, and they weren't Torchwood. I've seen Torchwood around, and they weren't them. Anyway, they all got out and they opened up the back and pulled this bloke out. He was tied up, I guess, so he couldn't fight back."

"Did you recognise him?" Kathy asked softly.

"Yeah," Thomas confirmed, looking sick with guilt. "It was _him_, you know? The American. The Captain."

She'd come prepared, and slid a photo across the table to Thomas.

"Is this the man you saw tied up, Thomas?"

Thomas took one look at the photo, and nodded anxiously.

"Yes, Miss. That's him. The Captain of Torchwood."

Kathy took the photo back.

"Okay, Thomas. You're doing really well, sweetheart. Now, what happened next?"

"Well, I don't know if he was awake when they stuffed him in the back there, but he was when they pulled him out. He was fighting like he wanted to kill 'em. They had a gun, though... Not a normal gun, but one of them stun gun things. They used it on him, and he went all limp. Then they lay him out on the back seat of the car, and one of 'em had this big knife... They took his clothes off, Miss. Used the knife to cut his clothes off, so they didn't have to untie him, I guess. When they pulled him out again, he didn't have any clothes on, and he was bleeding from all these cuts that they made when they were cuttin' his clothes off."

"Thomas, did you hear them say anything?" Kathy asked. "Even if it didn't make any sense to you?"

Thomas looked up at her tearfully.

"Our priest says it's a bad thing. He called it a mortal sin... but what those men did was worse. I can't believe he deserved to get hurt like that, even if it _was_ true."

"What are you talking about, Thomas?" his mother asked in growing concern.

"They were calling him names," Thomas explained haltingly.

"Poof... Homo... Fag... All those sorts of names. One of 'em said he was an af... aff... affront to God, and he didn't have a right to live. They were saying that they were gonna show him how his sort deserved to be treated, and then they were gonna send him to Hell, where he belonged."

Tears were rolling freely down Thomas' face by that time.

"Those men are the ones who sinned! They didn't have any right to do what they did!"

Kathy smiled at him, feeling sick but at the same time feeling gratified that a young boy had the courage and wisdom to differentiate between right and wrong in a situation like this.

"Okay, Thomas. If that's all..."

"No, Miss. I saw more than that. I wanted to run away, but I didn't. They dragged him into one of the ground floor flats. I snuck around, and watched through the window, They dumped him on this bed, and one of them had this barbed wire. They wrapped it around his wrists and ankles and tied him to the bed with it. Then they wrapped more of it around his head... you know, like a gag." Thomas hesitated, drawing in a shaky breath before speaking again. "Then they started takin' their own clothes off, Miss. I heard one of 'em say something else..."

"What did he say, Thomas?" Kathy asked quietly. Thomas spoke in barely a whisper.

"He said if the... the effin' poof really wants cock, then that's what he's gonna get." Thomas rubbed a hand fiercely over his eyes. "That's when I took off. I know I should'a called the police, but I didn't think. I was just so scared that I wanted to get home. I figured I could tell Mum and Dad, and they'd know what to do. 'Cept I got home, and they went off on me for being late. Said we had to hurry to get to church. I'm in the choir, see, and I had to go to rehearsal. Anyway, I tried to tell them, but I guess I didn't try hard enough. Then... I just forgot... with Christmas and all... It wasn't until we saw that news story earlier that I thought of it again, and I told Mum and Dad, and they brought me here."

Kathy swallowed a desire to sigh. What's done was done, and there was no way to change it.

"Thankyou, Thomas," she told him. "Now, another officer is going to come and talk to you, and see if you can help us work out what those men look like, so we can hopefully catch them. You've done really well, all right?"

She left him with his parents, then, and headed out of the interview room to find her Superintendent waiting for her.

"It's true, then?" he queried. "We have a witness?"

She nodded in confirmation.

"Yes, sir. He witnessed the offenders bringing Captain Harkness to the estate, and he saw them tie him to the bed with the barbed wire. He... also overheard what they were saying, sir."

"And? Was it Torchwood-related?"

"No, sir. Basically, it was a hate crime. They did it because they pegged him as being gay."

The Superintendent considered that for a long moment.

"And is he?"

Kathy shot him a frown.

"Would it matter if he was, sir?"

"Of course not, but you know what defence lawyers are like. Everything is relevant. If he is, and he was behaving accordingly in the bar, it'll probably be argued that they were simply reacting to beliefs that were instilled in them from childhood... You know, that sort of rubbish."

She had to concede that point.

"In my experience, sir, I would say no. But then, I don't know him well enough to be able to say one way or another."

"Mm. Well, as you say, it doesn't matter."

"I've left the boy to give a description to our artist," she said. "We'll need to be careful, though, and not publicise the fact that we have a witness. Otherwise, Torchwood will be all over us like a rash."

He nodded approvingly.

"Do what you have to do, and keep me in the loop."

* * *

It was nearly an hour before Ianto was finally game enough to suggest they get off the cold floor and head back down into the Hub. He thought for a while that Jack had fallen asleep, but the soft, barely audible sobs that escaped the older man told Ianto otherwise.

It was a strange and discomforting position that Ianto found himself in, to be the one now offering the comfort and reassurance. Before, he had only caught split second glimpses of any sign of vulnerability in his Captain. Now, it was there for all to see, and it was an unnerving experience.

"Jack. Jack, are you awake?"

If nothing else, he decided it was time to move because his shoulder was starting to ache. Gradually, he felt Jack shifting and then pulling away from him.

"How long have we been up here?" Jack asked in a voice that was more than a little on the hoarse side. Ianto barely glanced at his watch before answering.

"Nearly an hour, now. Perhaps we should make our way back downstairs, where it's somewhat warmer? Tosh should have gotten the door open again by now."

"The all-purpose key," Jack murmured. "You never came up with a cool name for that."

"I'll think on it, and let you know," Ianto answered dryly. He got awkwardly to his feet, grimacing as various muscles protested at the movement. "My arse is numb."

He half-expected a typical cheap shot from Jack at his remark, and felt surprisingly disappointed when none were forthcoming. Before this, he thought miserably, Jack would never have passed up such an opportunity. It spoke volumes to his state of mind that he hadn't jumped at the chance.

Ianto helped Jack up from the floor, and for just a moment they stood eye to eye. Jack's eyes, once so alive, were now dulled by what he'd been through. His own heart breaking, Ianto gently took Jack's hand in his own.

"C'mon. Let's head back downstairs. You need to rest."

"It won't help," Jack said softly as he allowed Ianto to lead him back down the stairs. "I need to be able to get back to work... put this behind me. Just like I did with..."

He cut himself off abruptly, drawing a quizzical look from Ianto.

"Just like you did with what, Jack?"

"Nothing," Jack whispered. "It doesn't matter."

"And yet, the way you're suddenly squeezing my hand suggests otherwise."

Jack flinched as though he'd been struck, and tried to jerk his hand back. Ianto refused to let go, though, and continued holding tightly until Jack ceased struggling.

"It's all right, anwylyd," Ianto told him softly. "Hold on to my hand as tightly as you need to."

Nevertheless, Ianto felt the pressure on his hand loosen significantly as Jack made a conscious effort to relax his grip.

They made it back down to the main level of the Hub to find the cog door had, indeed, been opened. Tosh and Owen were making an effort to immerse themselves in their work, but Gwen didn't hesitate to hurry over.

"Jack, are you all right, love?"

She stopped just short of reaching out to touch him, acutely aware of the way he shrank back from her.

"Fine," he mumbled, sounding anything but. An awkward silence reigned, and the Owen spoke up, attempting with some success to sound nonchalant.

"Jack, remember those reports you said you wanted done? The ones from last week?"

Jack carefully detached himself from Ianto's grip, and walked across to where Owen sat. He seemed to regain some of his usual stride, and when he spoke his voice sounded less hesitant.

"I remember telling you I'd stick you on weevil duty for the next month if you didn't have them finished in a week."

Owen turned a smug grin in Jack's direction.

"They're on your desk, ready and waiting."

Jack rolled his eyes at Owen's self-satisfied smirk, and then turned to Tosh.

"All quiet with the rift, Toshiko?"

She nodded, quickly catching on.

"Barely a peep. No disturbances, no spikes, not even a weevil alert. It's all good."

The last word nearly caught in her throat, but she managed somehow to keep her voice even. If Jack noticed her discomfort, it didn't show. He looked around, and there was just the faintest spark of light back in his eyes.

"Okay, then. Finish up what you're doing, and you can all go home. Owen, I'm going to be reading those reports very carefully, and if there's so much as a letter out of place..."

"I know, I know. You'll feed me to Myfanwy."

Jack snorted as he headed back to his office.

"Are you kidding? You'd just give her indigestion. No, I was going to say you'll be cleaning out the weevil cells for the rest of the year."

Owen shook his head as Jack disappeared into his office.

"Bastard'd do it, too." He swung around in his chair to see similar expressions on the faces of all three of his colleagues. "What?"

"Do you think that's wise?" Gwen wondered. "To just act like there's nothing wrong?"

Owen couldn't help but scowl at her.

"As opposed to what, Gwen? Running at him like a fucking loon and asking him how he is every five minutes? Bloody hell, treating him like a fucking mental invalid isn't gonna do anything except piss him off."

"Owen's got a point," Ianto conceded. "Jack is already hating the fact that we've seen him so vulnerable. He hates that we're the ones looking after him. He needs a little bit of normality to give him some balance."

"So we just ignore everything?" Tosh wondered incredulously. "Until when? Until he has another breakdown?"

"No," Owen said quietly. "We don't ignore anything. Look, it's up to us right now to keep everything together. All we can do is take it one day at a time, and be ready for it when things get bad for Jack. It's our turn to look after him for a change, yeah? Can we at least agree on that?"

A murmur of agreement swept through the group, and the women went quietly back to their own tasks, leaving Ianto and Owen alone.

"You get your issues sorted, then, Tea boy?" Owen asked.

"Not completely, but we're getting there," Ianto answered quietly. Owen nodded.

"I hope so, because you're the one he's going to be turning to when things get bad, and you'd better be ready for it."

Ianto watched as Owen headed back towards autopsy and, after a moment's thought, followed him.

"How do you know?"

Owen looked back at Ianto, his expression giving nothing away.

"How do I know what?"

"What to expect? With Jack, I mean. You're not just talking about A&E experience, are you?"

For a long minute, it seemed as though Owen was going to answer. Ianto was just steeling himself to be yelled at when Owen finally spoke in a subdued tone that was distinctly un-Owen-like.

"When I was sixteen, a cousin of mine was raped. It devastated her, and her parents. They didn't know how to help her, and they went from one extreme to the other. One minute they were smothering her with concern, and the next they'd practically ignore her, trying to pretend like nothing had happened. In the end, Sarah ended up killing herself, because she couldn't cope."

Ianto stared at Owen with a shielded gaze.

"I'm sorry, Owen... but Jack... He can't die..."

Owen thumped the autopsy table in frustration.

"Don't you get it? That's what I'm trying to say! Yes, we know that Jack can't die. That's the point I'm trying to make! There's no way out for him, so even if he tries to act now like there's nothing wrong, sooner or later the volcano's gonna erupt. We all need to be ready for it, but you most of all. That's why it's important that you get your issues sorted out properly. Jack is going to need at least one person that he trusts completely when the shit hits the fan. And if you ask why you, I'm going to fucking brain you with that tin of instant coffee you keep hidden away for when you're pissed at one of us."

Ianto flushed red, before regaining his composure and shaking his head.

"No, I won't ask that. I'm not an idiot, Owen."

Owen stared back at him with a cool, unsympathetic gaze.

"No? Well, you sure as hell have been working hard to prove differently."

Ianto frowned, but said nothing in reaction. He instead turned and headed silently back to Jack's office.

* * *

"Have they left yet?" Jack asked as Ianto stepped into the office.

"Not yet."

Jack looked up at him critically.

"Why not? I told them they could go. Why are they still here?"

Ianto paused, gathering his thoughts so as to avoid saying the wrong thing.

"Well, there is the small matter of the lockdown, if you recall. None of us can leave for another..." He paused again to glance at his watch. "Another five hours, Jack."

Jack appeared momentarily flustered, only to then tear off a piece of paper and scribble something down before folding it over and handing it to Ianto.

"Give this to Toshiko. It'll reverse the lockdown."

Ianto was unable to completely conceal his surprise, much to Jack's quiet amusement.

"You have a code to reverse a complete lockdown?"

Jack smiled, but there was no humour in his eyes.

"After what happened with Suzie? Yes. Couldn't ever take the chance again of someone else shutting us in. That's a complete override code, and I'm the only one who can change it. Now go, get her to reverse it. Please, Ianto."

Ianto, however, paused in the doorway, watching Jack with open worry.

"They're also concerned about leaving you alone."

The smile that had been fixed onto Jack's face faltered minutely.

"But I won't be alone... will I?"

The unspoken question was as clear as if Jack had actually spoken the words aloud. Ianto offered him a soft smile that was tentatively returned – more genuine than before.

"No," Ianto confirmed. "You won't be alone."

"Send them home, Ianto?" Jack begged softly. "Please... I... I want to go and lie down for a while."

Ianto raised an eyebrow.

"Jack, you don't need to wait until they've gone before you do that."

Jack's gaze flickered uneasily to the manhole that led down into his private quarters.

"Not down there. I don't want to go back down there."

And then Ianto understood. Jack was willing to go and rest, as Owen had begged him to do, but not in the claustrophobic environment of his private quarters. At the same time, neither did he care to advertise this particular vulnerability to the others. Nor did Ianto blame him for that, either.

"I'll get them to go home," Ianto promised, and slipped out of the office. Jack sat back slowly, and listened. He could hear protests from his team – most predominantly from Owen and Gwen, and a small part of him glowed at the knowledge that they were honestly concerned for his wellbeing. It didn't change the fact, however, that he vehemently hated knowing that his vulnerabilities were broadcast for them all to see. He was meant to look after them – not the other way around.

Minutes passed, and then he heard the grinding sound of the cog door rolling open and then closed, signalling someone's exit from the Hub. Before he had a chance to stand up to see for himself, the door of his office was opening and Ianto was walking back in.

"They've gone. It's just you and me now."

Jack didn't respond immediately, but rather turned his attention to the CCTV monitor. Ianto said nothing, un-offended by Jack's apparent lack of trust, and instead waited patiently while Jack reassured himself that they were, indeed, alone.

"Where are they going?" Jack asked suddenly, and Ianto leaned in to look. The monitor showed a slightly grainy image of Owen, Gwen and Tosh walking across the Plas together, away from the Hub.

"I believe they're going to get lunch," Ianto answered, and Jack blinked in mild disconcertment.

"It's only midday?"

Ianto didn't bother to ask what time of day Jack had thought it was. Instead, he reached across and flicked the monitor off, and then held a hand out to Jack. After a moment's consideration, Jack accepted and allowed Ianto to lead him from the office.

* * *

A not so small part of Ianto half expected Jack to baulk at the room, given that it was the bed where he'd lain in such agony. If it bothered Jack at all, though, he didn't let it show. He walked in and sat down quietly on the edge of the bed, his arms wrapped tightly around his own torso. Ianto stood observing him for a minute before speaking gently.

"You're going to be awfully hot in that coat, cariad. Why don't you let me hang it up for you?"

Unease flickered across Jack's face, but he nevertheless began to unbutton the greatcoat.

There was a sad sort of symbolism there, Ianto thought. In removing the coat, Jack was effectively stripping off his own defences, leaving himself even more vulnerable to Ianto. The young Welshman was a little in awe of the level of trust that Jack was placing in him. It was a new, fragile trust that Ianto was determined not to break again.

Walking around, Ianto gently drew the coat down off Jack's shoulders. As he removed it, he saw a blackened spot on the collar. That had to be where the stun gun had been used on him, Ianto thought, and had to make a conscious effort to tamp down on a flare of anger at the thought of Jack being treated so callously. He would have to get that repaired, or it would be a reminder to Jack of his ordeal every time he saw it… but not now. Now, Jack needed the comfort and protection that he obviously saw the coat as providing.

He hung the coat up in clear view, and then turned back to Jack. The Captain had made no further attempt to disrobe – yet another thing that told him that Jack was far from being okay.

"Will you let me take your boots off, Jack?"

Jack conceded with a single nod, and sat passively while Ianto removed his boots. The young man then took off the braces, and gently removed Jack's button-down shirt. Then he stepped back and observed Jack critically.

The older man sat stiffly, arms still folded tightly across his chest, and he was very nearly folding in on himself. Even though Ianto doubted how comfortable Jack would be, he decided against trying to divest him of his trousers. Instead, he reached over and pulled back the blanket.

"Lie down, anwylyd."

Jack lay down, and promptly pulled the blankets up to his neck. Keeping his movements slow, deliberate and as non-threatening as possible, Ianto took of his suit jacket, waistcoat and tie. He sat to remove his shoes before shifting around to look at his lover. Jack looked defensive at best, watching Ianto warily and making no effort to let go of his grip on the blankets. Ianto spoke, keeping his voice low and calm.

"Do you want to hold me?"

He was careful with his wording, wanting to give Jack every chance to feel safe and un-pressured. With some reluctance, Jack started to push back the blankets, only to stop.

"What is it?" Ianto wondered, thinking something was wrong.

"I…"

"What is it, Jack? Talk to me, please."

"Coffee," Jack said suddenly, and Ianto's eyebrows shot up.

"Coffee?"

"You said you'd get me coffee," Jack pointed out, sounding both hopeful and embarrassed at the same time. "I never got any coffee."

It took a huge effort not to simply burst out laughing, and as it was he couldn't keep himself from cracking a tiny grin.

"You want coffee?"

Jack stared up at him with a look that Ianto suspected was not entirely innocent.

"Please, Yan?"

Ianto couldn't help it. Even in this state of mind, Jack knew how exactly which buttons to push to get what he wanted. _That_ tone, with _that_ look, and he folded like a briefcase.

"All right, I'll go and fill a thermos," he conceded with a mock roll of his eyes. "Will you be all right here on your own?"

Jack smiled a not entirely convincing smile.

"Sure."

"All right," Ianto murmured. "I'll be right back, I promise."

He paused, and then leaned in slowly and brushed his lips softly over Jack's forehead. Jack tensed a little, but didn't attempt to pull away from the tender touch.

"Cara 'ch , anwylyd asgre," Ianto whispered, and then hurried out before Jack had a chance to say another word.

* * *

He made the coffee exactly the way Jack best liked it, anxious to do anything he could to make things better for his Captain. Although, he wasn't entirely certain that caffeine was the best thing for Jack right then, neither did he have the willpower to deny him.

A soft, plaintive cry overhead drew his attention, and he looked up to see Myfanwy circling. She knew there was something wrong, Ianto mused sadly. For a prehistoric creature with a supposedly tiny brain, she was surprisingly attuned to what was going on in the Hub. She was also fiercely loyal to and affectionate with Jack. Oh, she seemed to like him well enough, but with Jack it was as if she was a completely different pterodactyl. Often he'd come up from Archives late in the evening, after the others had gone, to find Myfanwy perched on the railing of the upper gantry and squawking happily while Jack petted her and cooed nonsense to her.

She didn't understand why her favourite human had paid her little to no attention over the last several days, and it wasn't as though he had any way of explaining it to her, either. Shaking his head and making up his mind to pay her some special attention later on, Ianto poured steaming hot coffee into a thermos and turned to head back, only to freeze in horror as his gaze fell on the monitor that was linked to the CCTV camera in the little room.

It seemed that Jack had dozed off in the short time that he'd been away from the room and sleep had, in turn, opened the doorway to nightmares. Jack was thrashing around in the bed, his mouth open in a wail that Ianto couldn't hear, but could well imagine.

Abandoning the thermos, he took off at a run, desperate to reach Jack before the Captain injured himself.

* * *

Ianto ran into the room and, in his panic to reach Jack, he thoughtlessly leaned in and grabbed him to stop his struggles. The sudden contact awoke Jack abruptly from his distressed sleep, but the Captain reacted blindly before his conscious mind had a chance to recognise that it had only been a nightmare and that he was, indeed, safe. Jack flailed wildly, and his fist struck Ianto hard in the face, sending the younger man tumbling off the bed and onto his backside on the floor.

Jack sat bolt upright, his breath coming in laboured gasps as he struggled to comprehend where he was and what was happening.

"Jack, it's okay," Ianto gasped, trying to coordinate himself to get up off the floor. His right cheek was smarting badly from the blow he'd taken, but he didn't think there was any real damage done beyond it being bruised. "It's all right. You're safe. Jack, are you hearing me? You're safe."

Slowly, Jack's breathing began to even out and the panic faded from his eyes as he recognised his surroundings. Ianto pulled himself unsteadily to his feet and sat carefully on the edge of the bed. Jack's eyes flickered towards him, only to widen in horror a moment later when he saw the developing bruise on Ianto's cheek.

"Oh god, Ianto… I hit you…"

Ianto reached out and cupped Jack's face tenderly, rubbing his thumb soothingly along Jack's jaw line.

"Hush, love. It's all right. Really, you didn't hurt me."

Unshed tears glistened brightly in Jack's eyes, and it was painfully obvious that he didn't believe Ianto's reassurances. Anxious to comfort Jack, Ianto took hold of one trembling hand and pressed it firmly to his now bruised cheek. It was an effort not to flinch at the spark of pain that came with the contact, but it was worth it to see the distress beginning to fade from Jack's eyes.

"I really didn't hurt you?" Jack asked shakily, and Ianto smiled lovingly at him.

"No, you really didn't. Lie down now, cariad."

At Ianto's gentle insistence, Jack lay back down, and Ianto couldn't miss the relief in his eyes as he joined him on the bed.

Ianto said and did nothing, but simply lay beside Jack and waited for him to do as he would. Nearly a minute passed before Jack reached out tentatively and slipped his arms around Ianto. Ianto mirrored Jack's movements and gradually the two men wrapped themselves around each other, finishing with Jack resting his head in against Ianto's shoulder. Ianto placed a soft kiss on the top of Jack's head, grateful to hear Jack's breathing slow down, and feel the tension start to seep from his body.

"That's it," Ianto whispered. "You're safe. I've got you. Go to sleep, cariad. It's all right, you're safe with me."

Jack shifted slightly, hugging Ianto against him like a life-sized teddy bear as sleep began to claim him once more. Jack was almost asleep when he spoke in a distant mumble.

"Never got my coffee…"

And then he was out, sleeping comfortably and securely in Ianto's embrace. Ianto, however, lay awake for a long time afterwards, shedding bitter tears in the silence of the Hub.

* * *

_tbc..._


	13. Outside the Hub

The first thing that Ianto became aware of was a steady, irritating beeping that cut into his sleep-fogged brain, and dragged him protesting back into reality. He groaned and struggled to comprehend what the noise was that had so rudely interrupted his sleep, and it took him good five minutes to realise that it was the rift alarm, sounding through his mobile phone.

Ianto sat up slowly, carefully extricating himself from Jack's all-encompassing embrace, and reached for his phone. His attention first went to the time that shone out from the phone's screen. It was just after one in the morning, he noted with surprise. He and Jack had gone to bed at around two the previous afternoon, and had slept soundly for nearly twelve hours.

He looked down at Jack with affection. This was the sort of rest that Owen had advocated that he get – uninterrupted by anything untoward like nightmares. The difference was already noticeable. Jack appeared more at peace than he had for days... maybe even weeks. Giving in to a moment of indulgence, he leaned down and pressed his lips lightly to Jack's forehead. He desperately wanted to kiss his lover on the lips, but nor did he want to risk doing something that might result in a bad reaction. And so he kept his actions chaste, and innocent.

His phone beeped again persistently, and Ianto turned his attention reluctantly from Jack to look at the device. It was a weevil alert, and he cursed softly as he eased out of the warm bed to go and investigate further. Jack was sleeping soundly, undisturbed by nightmares, and he decided to risk leaving him alone for just a few minutes while he went to check it out, and arrange for the others to deal with it.

* * *

He made his way up into the main body of the Hub, and was busy examining Tosh's monitor when movement behind him alerted him to the fact that he was no longer alone. Turning, he found himself confronted by Jack, who was just fitting his braces over his shoulders.

"Weevil?" Jack queried, peering over Ianto's shoulder at the monitor. Ianto nodded.

"Yes. Just the one, by the looks of it. I'll just call Gwen or Owen..."

"Why?" Jack asked bluntly, momentarily throwing Ianto off his stride.

"Well... so they can catch it..." he stammered.

"No," Jack said, with the faintest hint of impatience in his tone. "Why bother them in the middle of the night, when we're already here? It's one weevil. We can take care of it."

"Jack..." Ianto protested. "I really don't think that..."

"That what? That it's a good idea to let me out yet? What do you think I'm going to do, Ianto? Seriously..."

And Ianto found himself conceding, even as a tiny part of brain whispered what a bad idea it was. Hoping fervently that he wasn't making yet another phenomenal mistake, Ianto picked up the portable locator, and he and Jack headed for the SUV together.

* * *

"My gun," Jack said suddenly with a frown as they headed up the stairs. Ianto drew in a steadying breath that, in reality, did nothing to settle his unease.

"It was one of the things that the police weren't able to recover, Jack. It was missing when they… when you were found."

"Great," Jack muttered sourly. "It'll probably turn up in some dingy little pawn shop, and I'll have to ret-con the owner to get it back. What about the stun guns?"

"They were missing, too."

"Huh."

They emerged into the garage and Jack froze as his gaze fell on the SUV, the driver's side window still cracked and bloody from where Jack's face had been smashed into it. Ianto silently cursed himself for forgetting that they had yet to get the SUV repaired. Anxious to stop Jack from getting a look inside the vehicle, at the blood that was soaked into the backseat, he gently touched his palm to Jack's shoulder to turn him in a different direction.

"C'mon. We'll take my car."

He offered no reason, and Jack asked for none.

* * *

A suffocating silence reigned as they drove. Ianto spared Jack frequent worried glances, all the while trying to convince himself that he wasn't doing the wrong thing in allowing Jack to go out like this. Owen, he suspected, was probably going to throttle him, but the truth was that he simply hadn't been able to deny Jack. Keeping him shut inside the Hub was just another form of captivity, and Ianto couldn't stomach the thought of subjecting Jack to any further forms of imprisonment, no matter how well-intentioned.

Jack, for his part, looked as though he was focused on the locator, but Ianto caught him throwing surreptitious glances out of the window at the passing cityscape. He wondered what Jack was looking at, or if he was looking for something in particular. Something... or, perhaps, someone…

Maybe, he mused grimly, Jack was looking for more than just a weevil.

"Stop the car," Jack said suddenly. "It's close, maybe a block or two at the most."

Ianto pulled over, and Jack was out of the car almost before it had stopped moving.

"Jack, wait!" Ianto called out, frightened that the Captain was going to take off in pursuit of the weevil, unarmed and unprepared. The Captain halted, giving Ianto an odd look, and Ianto indicated the boot of the car.

"Weapons, Jack? I don't fancy going up against a weevil unarmed."

Jack joined him at the rear of the car, and waited with visible impatience as Ianto produced a variety of weapons from a hidden compartment in the boot.

"You travel everywhere with this stash in your car," Jack said flatly. Ianto raised an eyebrow at him, as if to say 'so?'.

"Your orders. You keep telling me to be prepared."

"So the next time you get busted for carrying concealed weapons..."

"I'll blame you."

Jack smiled wryly.

"Of course."

Ianto loaded himself up with a gun and weevil spray, and was just starting to close the boot when Jack coughed loudly.

"What?" Ianto asked a touch defensively, only to blush red when Jack held out his hand expectantly.

"Gun. Now."

"Jack..."

"Ianto," Jack said in a soft, but tense voice when Ianto hesitated, "I promise you I'm not going to shoot myself. Please, give me a gun… unless you're planning on using me as bait?"

The Welshman blanched, and pulled out a gun, which he checked quickly before handing it over.

"Thankyou," Jack murmured. "Now, let's go get ourselves a weevil..."

Neither man had a chance to move, both of them momentarily blinded by a powerful flashlight that was suddenly in their eyes.

"This is the police," a young, quasi-authoritative voice announced from somewhere beyond the blinding light. "Both of you, put your weapons down, and step back from the vehicle, _slowly_."

Ianto tried to shield his eyes and peer at the owner of the voice, who was at that moment only a slightly fuzzy silhouette. He knew that voice.

"Andy?"

"Ianto? That you, mate?"

Ianto snorted loudly. "Yeah, it's me. Put the bloody light down, you fool!"

The light was lowered, and Jack and Ianto rubbed at their eyes as their vision slowly returned.

"Sorry about that," PC Andy Davidson remarked, sounding not in the least bit sorry at all. "Wasn't expecting Torchwood to be out prowling tonight. Haven't had any reports of anything spooky happening." His gaze went to Jack, then, and his eyebrows shot up. "Blimey, I wasn't expecting to see you up and about yet... and not a mark on you, by the looks of it! Bloody hell, how'd you manage that, then? Would've thouht you'd have permanent scars, going by those pictures they showed on the tellie."

Ianto had been acutely and uncomfortably aware of the increasing tension radiating off Jack as Andy prattled on. At that last statement, though, both men froze, and Ianto spoke hoarsely in shock.

"What pictures?"

Andy hesitated, suddenly conscious of the reactions from Jack and Ianto. Abruptly, Jack broke his paralysis, and advanced on Andy, virtually radiating aggression.

"What pictures, damn it!" he thundered. "Tell me!"

Andy stumbled backwards, straight into a lamp post, and suddenly found himself pinned there, with a faceful of angry Jack Harkness.

"P... Pictures... of you..." Andy stammered. "T... Taken at the c... crime scene... S... Someone passed them onto the tellie stations. They were shown on the news yesterday..."

Jack let go of Andy like the young constable was on fire, and stumbled backwards away from him. Ianto felt paralysed with shock, his gaze shifting from Jack, who looked sick with rage and shame, to Andy, whose eyes were saucer-wide with horrified realisation.

"You didn't know... Oh god... I'm sorry..."

Andy mumbled something else incomprehensible, and fled. Ianto watched him go with a bitter anger that was tinged strongly with jealousy. There was a not-so-small part of him that desperately wanted to do the same thing – to turn and run away as fast as he could. Instead, he found himself stepping towards Jack tentatively.

"Jack...?"

He stopped himself from asking Jack if he was okay. As far as he was concerned, it was perhaps the most phenomenally stupid question ever. Instead, he reached out for, but stopped just short of touching the Captain.

"Jack," he tried again. He desperately needed Jack to respond, and at the same time hoped that he wouldn't, purely out of fear over what his reaction might be. Finally, Jack looked up and Ianto felt an icy chill sweep down through his body, starting at the very top of his head and going all the way down to his toes.

Jack's expression was one that Ianto had only seen on his face once before, and that was three nights after Jack had come home to them. It was the look of someone who was trying to cope with reality in the wake of a horrific experience, and was failing abysmally.

"Everyone knows," Jack said dully. "It's public knowledge now. Everyone knows."

Ianto's stomach twisted painfully. He'd long assumed that shame and embarrassment were two words that simply weren't a part of Jack Harkness's vocabulary. Now, seeing the dull red flush that crept onto Jack's face and the look of sheer misery and humiliation in his eyes, Ianto finally knew different.

"Jack..." he said tentatively again. Jack abruptly wheeled around and strode away into the darkness.

"Let's go!" he snapped. "Weevil to catch!"

Ianto felt his heart and stomach sink, but in the end there was nothing he could do except follow.

* * *

He'd gone nearly two blocks before he realised that he could neither see nor hear Jack any longer. He reached up automatically to activate the Bluetooth, only to curse as he realised he wasn't wearing it, and neither was Jack. Yet another thing he'd foolishly forgotten to do before leaving the Hub. Owen and Gwen were both going to kill him.

Cursing his own stupidity, Ianto broke into a run, his heart pounding painfully in his chest as he searched for any sign of his errant Captain. He was almost to the next intersection when he heard a familiar snarl from somewhere behind him. Doubling back, Ianto followed the sound down a long, dark alley. When he got to the end, he was treated to a terrifying sight. Jack had the weevil cornered and was yelling taunts at it, while splaying his arms wide in a blatant 'come and get me' gesture. His right hand still clutched the gun, though, and Ianto could see he was ready to use it in the instant the weevil made a wrong move.

He breathed a soft sigh of relief, but that relief was short-lived when Jack suddenly reset the safety, and tossed the gun away.

"Jack!" Ianto yelled, charging forward, but he was not fast enough. The weevil lunged at Jack, tackling him to the ground with an angry roar. There was a flash of white as the creature opened its mouth wide to brandish razor sharp canines, before sinking those canines into Jack's throat.

Blood spurted everywhere, and a sickening gurgling sound could be heard somewhere beneath the snarl of the weevil, as Jack rapidly bled out from the torn flesh of his throat. Swearing loudly, Ianto took aim and fired, shooting the weevil four times in the head. The monster collapsed on top of Jack, dead.

Running forward, Ianto dragged the alien body off Jack, and knelt down beside him. As much as he knew it was a pointless gesture, Ianto pressed his hands over the wound in a futile attempt to stymie the flow of blood. He felt something brush lightly against his thigh, and looked down to find Jack's hand batting weakly against him. Keeping one hand pressed to Jack's throat, Ianto took Jack's hand in his other and squeezed tightly.

"I'm here, Jack," he said hoarsely. "I'm right here, anwylyd. It's okay... You can let go. I'll be here when you come back, I promise."

_And then I'm going to smack you over the head for offering yourself up as a bloody chew toy for a weevil_, he added with silent vehemence.

He didn't voice the thought, and watched with muted grief as the light left Jack's eyes, and he fell limp against the pavement.

Ianto had no way of knowing how long it would take Jack to come back to life. He guessed that ordinarily it might only be a few minutes, but he also figured that ordinarily Jack wasn't already weakened physically, mentally and emotionally. When ten minutes had gone by, and Jack still hadn't revived, Ianto decided it was time to be proactive.

Unwilling to leave Jack alone, in case he did revive, Ianto lifted the Captain's body up over his shoulder and headed back towards his car. He would then go back for the body of the weevil.

He reached the car, struggling under Jack's deadweight, and lay him carefully on the backseat. Breathing hard with exertion, he climbed into the driver's seat and drove the car the short distance back to where he'd left the weevil's body. Releasing the boot, he hauled the weevil inside, already calculating the cost of cleaning to get rid of the odour that the corpse would leave.

That done, he made a cursory check to ensure no other unwanted interlopers were present before heading back to the Hub. He was nearly there when a strangled gasp alerted him to Jack's resurrection. Whilst keeping one hand on the wheel and his eyes firmly on the road ahead, Ianto reached back and found Jack's hand and held on tightly.

"I'm here, Jack. I'm right here. Just breathe, love. Nice, slow breaths…"

"Wha… Where…?" Jack gasped, disoriented.

"You're in my car. We're almost back at the Hub. Just try to relax, all right? We'll be there soon."

Jack groaned and slumped back on the seat, giving up on any efforts to move into an upright position. He was intensely grateful for having woken up in the backseat of Ianto's car, and not the rear compartment of the SUV. That would have been more than he could have coped with, given he had very vivid, very terrifying memories of the last time he'd woken up to find himself in the back of the SUV. He shut his eyes tightly, and tried to focus on the reassuring sensation of Ianto's hand grasping his own. That was something he could easily do without remembering, _ever_.

He was vaguely aware of the car coming to a solid stop, and then Ianto was there, gently pulling him up and out of the vehicle. Jack tried to stand on his own, embarrassed by his own apparent weakness, but his body rebelled. His legs shook and he was saved from falling only by Ianto's strong arm around his waist, supporting him.

They made their way back down into the Hub, one shaky step at a time until Ianto was able to safely deposit the Captain onto the couch. Jack slumped backwards, his chest heaving from the exertion as he struggled to regain his equilibrium. Exsanguination always took it out of him, and left him thoroughly exhausted. It had become the Master's favourite method of killing him whenever he'd had to be moved within the Valiant, learning quickly that Jack was sluggish at best for a good hour or so after reviving from such a death.

Jack shuddered. That was not a memory he cared to be reliving – especially not now.

He felt movement beside him, and hazarded a glance left. Ianto sat beside him, watching with concern while at the same time threading his fingers lovingly through Jack's damp hair.

"Are you all right?" Ianto asked in concern. "I mean, really all right?"

Jack hesitated in answering, pausing to take stock of himself.

"Yeah, I think so," he mumbled finally. "Just… ruined another shirt, damn it… But yeah, I'm okay."

"Good," Ianto said simply. A moment later, Jack yelped in shock as Ianto smacked him squarely up-side the back of his head.

"Ow, what was that for?" Jack cried out indignantly, trying unsuccessfully to pull away even as the offending hand took to gently massaging the spot that it had just whacked.

"For being a bloody idiot," Ianto told him flatly. "Why did you do that, Jack?"

Jack shifted uncomfortably, not quite able to look Ianto in the eye.

"I… I heard you come up behind me. I thought it was going to go for you…"

"Bullshit," Ianto said softly. "That's the worst lie I've ever heard from you."

Jack fell abruptly quiet, his gaze fixed on his hands, which were clasped together tightly in his lap. Ianto went on in a low, calm voice, doing his level best to suppress his anger. Right at that moment, anger was the last emotion that Jack needed to be exposed to.

"You were yelling at it to come and get you, Jack. You were _taunting_ it. And then, you threw away your gun. Why did you do that? Did you really want it to kill you?"

"Yes."

The answer was so soft that Ianto wasn't sure he'd heard right.

"Sorry? Did you say…"

"Yes!" Jack burst out, startling Ianto. "Yes, I wanted it to kill me! Is that what you want to hear? That I wanted it to rip my throat out?"

Ianto felt light-headed all of a sudden, and his mind tipped back to Owen's words of warning. It seemed he had been right. They had on their hands a suicidal man who couldn't die…

"Jack…"

Jack went on, the vehemence in his voice not quite masking a deeper agony that Ianto was starting to realise he could do nothing about.

"Because when I'm dead, at least for a little while, nothing hurts. That's what I wanted, Ianto. For everything to stop hurting… just for a little while."

Ianto felt his eyes burn with unshed tears as understanding finally dawned.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, hating himself for the utter inadequacy of his words. Jack looked away, but not in time to keep Ianto from catching a glimpse of the tears that glistened in the older man's eyes.

"This is wrong," Jack said brokenly. "This is all wrong, Ianto. I shouldn't be bothered by it, right? It's just sex. I shouldn't see their faces every time I close my eyes. I shouldn't still be able to feel the wire around my wrists and ankles… around my face… It shouldn't get to me like this, right?"

"Cariad, look at me," Ianto murmured, and he reached out to gently draw Jack's gaze back to him. I know you think you have to be strong, and pretend you're not affected, but you don't. You don't have to hide from us… or from me. It is okay to let us know you're hurting."

"I'm supposed to be strong," Jack said bitterly. "It's my responsibility to be strong... to not let things affect me. I'm in charge, I'm supposed to... to..."

Ianto reached across and covered Jack's hands with his own, encouraged when Jack didn't pull away from him.

"You're supposed to trust your team."

Jack looked at him again, and the bitterness was back.

"Why?"

Ianto flinched as though he'd been slapped, and for a split seconds he very nearly reacted before the reality of the last few days crashed into him again, and he remembered that Jack had every right nt to fully trust him. Trust was something that Ianto knew he was going to have to work very hard to earn again from Jack. Instead, he tried a different tactic.

"Jack, it's not being weak to admit that you're hurting and that you need help. I think you know that, cariad. Let us take care of Torchwood. Let us take care of _you_ for once, please."

When Jack neither moved nor spoke, Ianto took the initiative and put his arm slowly around Jack's shoulders and urged Jack to lean against him. Jack offered some initial resistance before his shoulders slumped heavily, and he allowed Ianto to pull him into a protective embrace.

Again, Ianto resisted the urge to kiss Jack, even just an innocent brush of the lips over his temple or on his cheek. Even in holding Jack like this, he could feel the tension in Jack's body. He was truly scared, and Ianto felt a surge of helplessness that he had no solutionn to counter such a deepset fear. In fact, the last time he'd felt this helpless had been back at the height of the chaos of Canary Wharf...

But no, he was not going to let his thoughts go down that rocky path.

"Talk to me, Jack," Ianto murmured, adjusting his position to encourage Jack to lie cradled against his chest. "Tell me what happened."

"No," Jack whispered. "I don't want to talk about it. I don't even want to think about it. I just want to forget it every happened."

"You can't pretend it never happened, Jack," Ianto said softly, and Jack uttered a strangled laugh.

"No? I've got a bottle of retcon in my office that says otherwise."

Ianto felt his stomach churn a little at the unveiled threat. Oh, it was so easy to think of retcon as a solution, and Ianto himself had considered it in the past. It wasn't, though – all it did was serve as a fairly flimsy shield for memories that, sooner or later, would force their way back to the surface of the mind. No, retcon was no solution to a situation like this.

"You need to talk about it, Jack. Face what happened, not try to erase it from your memory."

"Suddenly an expert, huh?" Jack asked scathingly. Ianto smiled sadly.

"Just repeating what you once told me, anwylyd."

Jack was momentarily quiet, and Ianto fancied that he could almost hear the wheels turning in Jack's mind as he tried to place when he might have said such a thing to Ianto. After a long moment's silence, Ianto spoke again.

"It was after the Brecon Beacons, Jack. Do you remember? You brought me home, and then you sat with me through the entire night. I begged you to retcon me, so I wouldn't have to remember any of it, but you wouldn't do it. You made me talk about everything, even though I put up a fight over it. You made me go over every single thing that happened from the moment Tosh and I went off to find the SUV, and you know something? It worked, Jack. It didn't stop the nightmares completely, but it kept them frm being worse than I could cope with. Now, let me try and do the same thing for you."

Ianto stroked his fingers through Jack's hair, quietly aware of a damp patch that was forming on his shirt. Tears, he thought miserably.

_Oh, Jack_...

"I knew people could hate," Jack said suddenly, his voice muffled as he turned his face into Ianto's chest. "I've experienced it before. Anything that's different, that doesn't fit into their ideals... But the worst I ever got was a couple of punches. A few bar brawls... It was never personal."

"What do you mean?" Ianto asked, puzzled. Jack shuddered against him.

"They targeted me as soon as I walked into the pub, Yan. I didn't notice it at the time. I was feeling too damned sorry for myself to notice. But they did, they targeted me. Waited until I'd had a few drinks, and then sent their guy in. Cute kid, tried to talk me into leaving with him."

Ianto's eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise.

"Tried to?"

"I declined," Jack admitted dully. "Felt too much like I was cheating on you."

Fresh guilt gnawed at Iant at that admission, but he said nothing, waiting patiently for Jack to continue.

"I left. Don't know where I was going to go... Back to the Hub, I guess. I was standing by the SUV when I saw Chris... the kid who tried to chat me up... I saw his reflection in the window. Started to say I was flattered, but I really didn't want to follow through... next thing I know, my face was being mashed against the window, and there're five or six guys patting me down for weapons, keys... everything. Might've been a turn-on, 'cept the bastards shattered my cheekbone. Then they started..."

"Started what?" Ianto asked softly, dreading the answer.

"Calling me things," Jack whispered. "Poof... Things like that. They picked me for being gay, and that's why they... they did what they did."

Ianto shut his eyes, feeling thoroughly sick.

"A hate crime," he whispered in dismayed understanding.

"Hate crime," Jack echoed numbly. "Yes... That's what it was. They hated me... hated what they thought I was. Said I... I didn't deserve to live." He uttered a slightly hysterical laugh. "If only they knew..."

It was Ianto's turn to shudder. Thank God they hadn't known, he thought numbly. He lightly stroked Jack's hair, and then allowed his fingers to trail down over Jack's shoulder to his back, where he drew soothing circles.

"I don't understand," Jack went on shakily as he clung to Ianto. "I just don't get it... Why did they even care? What harm was I doing to them?"

Ianto felt a fresh wave of pain that Jack had been exposed to such vile hatred, while at the same time marvelling at the odd paradox that was his lover and Captain. For all his worldliness... and other-worldliness... there was a large part of Jack that was still incredibly innocent and naïve. He had fought wars, both on Earth and in other times and on other worlds, and yet he still found it so difficult to comprehend man's inhumanity to man. The Captain was nearly two hundred years old, and yet somehow managed to maintain an idealistic, almost childlike view of humans. And yet he knew better than any of them the sorts of atrocities that humans were capable of committing.

"What if I did retcon myself?" Jack wondered."Wipe my memory from Christmas Eve onwards... I could do that, couldn't I?"

Ianto paused in answering, searching desperately for the right words to bring Jack away from this particular, disturbing train of thought.

"Yes, I suppose you could," he conceded. "But do you really think that's the best thing to do? Remember what you told me after the Brecon Beacons? When I begged you to retcon me? You told me you wouldn't do it, and that one day I'd understand why. Well, I think I do now. Bad memories like that, they shouldn't be forgotten, because the only way to overcome them is to face them. You told me that, Jack, and you were right."

Jack didn't lift his head from where his face was burrowed in against Ianto's chest.

"One time I wish I _was_ wrong."

The statement went over Ianto's head. He sensed there was more to it than Jack was willing to elaborate on, especially given the way he practically spat out the word 'wrong'. Right at that moment, though there was more to be concerned with than vague references and overly subtle nuances.

"Retconning yourself isn't the answer," Ianto murmured, stroking his fingers lovingly through Jack's hair. "And neither is deliberately trying to get yourself killed. Can we at least agree on that for the moment?"

Minutes passed with no response, but Ianto waited patiently. He knew Jack would respond eventually, given sufficient time to think things through. Finally, much to Ianto's quiet relief, Jack nodded mutely in reluctant concession.

"All right, then," Ianto whispered. "That's a start, at least. One step at a time, Jack. Just one step at a time, cariad."

He felt a rippling shudder pass through Jack as the tears began again, followed by soft, heart-wrenching sobs. Ianto didn't try to tell him to hush, but rather continued to cradle Jack to him, murmuring soothing words of comfort. Minutes slipped by, and gradually the muffled sobs eased and then faded altogether as a light, restless sleep took over. Ianto continued to stroke Jack's hair lightly, listening with a heavy heart to the soft, distressed whimpers that occasionally escaped the Captain's lips.

Owen had warned him that they were just starting to enter the difficult times, but only now, after witnessing first-hand Jack's apparent suicidal despair, did Ianto really begin to believe it.

* * *

_tbc..._


	14. A New Arrival

Kathy Swanson was not particularly impressed to arrive at her desk early that morning to find a young, uniformed PC waiting for her. She didn't know him, and couldn't imagine what he might be wanting of her. Her hands were more than full right then with the Harkness assault case, and she had no time to devote to eager young PCs.

"Sorry to bother you, Ma'am," the young man said, standing up as she approached. "I was told to see you first thing."

She regarded him with weary resignation.

"What's this about, then?"

"Well... I'm PC Andy Davidson, Ma'am. It... Well, it's about Captain Jack Harkness."

Kathy felt her hackles raise instinctively. If this was another instance of '_he's Torchwood, what's the big deal_', then someone was quite possibly going to get hurt.

"What about him, PC Davidson?"

"I saw him, Ma'am."

She looked up at him, taken by surprise.

"When? Before the assault?"

"No, Ma'am. Last night... Actually, it was more like early this morning. About one or two o'clock."

Her attention was well and truly piqued now.

"Where?"

"Out on the streets, Ma'am. Him and that other fellow, Ianto Jones."

Kathy blinked, trying to get her head around that.

"You saw him?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Outside, on the street?"

"That's right."

She was almost afraid to ask the next question. It was hard enough wrapping her head around the thought that Jack was up and about when, only twenty-four hours ago she'd witnessed him lying crippled in bed, able to blink and nothing more.

"How was he? How did he look?"

Andy snorted at that.

"How does he always look? Picture bloody perfect. Although... I might have let slip about the crime scene pictures on the tellie. You know, because I was so startled to see him and all. He had rather a bad reaction."

With some effort, Kathy avoided grimacing. She didn't doubt that at all. That, however, was beside the point, and she shook her head, trying to digest what she was hearing.

"Picture perfect...? That's not possible, PC Davidson. I saw him myself just a couple of days ago, and he was practically crippled! There is no possible way he could have healed so fast."

Andy gave a half-shrug.

"I couldn't say, Ma'am. I only know what I saw. Maybe he was faking it...?"

"No," she snapped. "There's no way he could have faked those injuries, so don't go there, PC Davidson."

"Well, maybe it just wasn't as bad as everyone thought," he suggested helplessly.

Kathy didn't respond to that. She could see no point in disputing him, despite her firm belief that there was no chance Jack could have fooled everyone with the seriousness of his injuries. In her mind's eye, she saw him bed-ridden and devastated both physically and emotionally, and knew in her gut that his condition had been every bit as serious as it had looked.

Getting to her feet, she dismissed Andy with a wave of her hand, and grabbed her bag and coat as she headed for the exit. She was going to get to the bottom of this, and find out exactly what the hell was going on.

* * *

"You let him do _what_?" Owen exploded. He, Gwen and Tosh had arrived that morning to find Jack shut away in his office and Ianto in the process of disposing of Jack's torn and bloodied shirt from the previous night's hunt. Owen had promptly hustled Ianto upstairs into the greenhouse and demanded to know what had happened. The medic had, predictably, been furious.

To Ianto's credit, he didn't flinch in the face of Owen's anger, though he did at least have the good grace to look guilty.

"When did you last successfully tell Jack no?" Ianto asked wearily. The night's tensions and activities had exhausted him greatly, and he had little strength left to argue with his colleague over Jack's welfare. Owen hesitated, brought up short by the plainly put argument.

"Okay, fair point. But why the hell didn't you call me, anyway?"

Ianto ran his fingers through his hair in frustration, all the while glancing out through the clear glass of the greenhouse wall to where Tosh was currently attempting to keep Jack distracted with whatever was on her computer monitor.

"I don't know, all right? I thought it'd be okay. It would have been okay if we hadn't run into bloody Andy Davidson!"

Owen blanched.

"PC Andy? Gwen's old partner, PC Andy? Fuck, Ianto! Could you have cocked this up any worse?"

That was all Ianto could take, and he rounded on Owen angrily.

"Me? What about you, Owen? When were you going to tell us about the crime scene pictures that have been splashed all over the bloody tellie?"

Owen paled slightly, caught off-guard by Ianto's rant.

"You, uh... You know about that, then?"

"Yes, and so does Jack. You should have seen his face, Owen. He was devastated. I think it's mainly the reason that he did what he did."

"You mean suicide by weevil? Yeah, real moment of brilliance, that was. Not sure whether to be sympathetic, or just slap him over the head."

"He's hurting, Owen, and it's bad enough that he can't hide away behind a mask, like he usually does. No, now all of bloody Cardiff knows what happened to him!"

It was Owen's turn to scrub his hands over his face and head, then.

"I swear, I don't know which fucking way to turn at the moment. Can hardly get my own head around it all, so God knows how Jack must be feeling."

"He's hurting," Ianto said again softly. "I don't think I've ever seen him like this before. I don't think I'd even thought it possible. I don't know what to do, Owen. I don't know how to help him. I... I tried to kiss him a couple of nights ago, and it triggered a panic attack. It's just getting progressively worse. It's terrifying to watch him break down like this, and not be able to do anything to stop it."

"And there's not a single bloody person we can go to for help," Owen muttered. "None of us are quipped to deal with this. He needs professional help... _outside_ help, but who the hell could we possibly send him to? Even if he was willing to talk? Ianto? Has he talked to you about any of it?"

"No," Ianto admitted. "Although, I have to admit that I haven't really tried to make him talk about it. Not yet. He just doesn't seem to be ready to face it. The closest we got was..."

"What?" Owen pressed, and Ianto shifted his stance uncomfortably.

"He was talking about ret-conning himself, Owen."

"Fuck. That's not gonna help him."

"I know, and I think I managed to talk him around from it, but it might come up again the next time he hits one of these... lows. It worries me that he has such ready access to the retcon, not to mention all the weapons in this place. But if I change the access codes to the secure archives, it could just makes things even worse."

Owen sighed heavily.

"If he was just a regular bloke, we wouldn't even be having this discussion, because he'd still be laid up with those injuries."

"Owen," Ianto corrected him in a strained voice, "if Jack was a regular bloke, he probably would have died long before anyone found him."

"Fair point," Owen conceded again bleakly.

"What if we were to bring someone to Torchwood?" Ianto suggested. "A psychiatrist, someone who's equipped to deal with that kind of trauma. We could always retcon them afterwards, if we need to."

"That's... actually not such an idiotic idea," Owen mused. "We'll see if we can find someone. It's gonna have to be done behind Jack's back, though, at least while we're looking for someone. He'll be pissed enough when he does find out what we're doing."

"No more than when he finds out that you're running an investigation into the attack," Ianto added, and Owen grimaced in response.

"Fair point," he mumbled a third time as he imagined Jack's reaction to both things. They had no chance to continue the discussion, though. The door of the greenhouse opened, and Tosh looked in at them.

"Owen? We may have a problem. Detective Swanson is upstairs in the tourist office. It doesn't look as though she's planning on leaving anytime soon, either."

"Shit," Owen hissed. "I'll bet I know why she's here, too."

"Tosh, where is Jack?" Ianto asked, noticing that the Captain had disappeared from the main floor of the Hub.

"He's gone up to Myfanwy's nest," Tosh said. "Gwen mentioned that she seemed to be unhappy at the moment, so he's gone up to spend some time with her."

"Good," Owen muttered. "Okay, I'll deal with Detective Swanson. Ianto, you tell Tosh and Gwen what we were just talking about."

Tosh raised an eyebrow at Ianto quizzically, but said nothing as she followed them out of the greenhouse.

* * *

Kathy Swanson glowered as Owen emerged from behind the beaded curtain, into the tourist office.

"You," she snapped, "have some explaining to do, Dr Harper."

Owen didn't flinch. He was more certain than ever what this was about, but at the same time he had no intention of giving her any leeway.

"Oh, yes? About what?"

"Don't you screw with me, Harper. You know what I'm talking about."

"Let's pretend that I don't," Owen said blandly. "Why don't you tell me what you're going on about?"

"All right," she growled. "We'll play it your way. I just spoke to PC Andy Davidson this morning, Harper."

Owen kept his expression carefully veiled.

"Who's that, then?"

Kathy bristled in anger, and Owen fancied that he could almost see steam coming out of her ears.

"You are _not_ helping your captain with this attitude," she fumed. Owen looked unapologetic, to say the least.

"Look, Detective, I know what you want. You want to see Jack. Well, it's not going to happen, so I suggest you just turn around and take yourself out of here. All right?"

"No, it's not bloody all right!" she exploded at him. "Damn it, I want to know what the hell is going on here!"

Owen leaned forward into her personal space, his expression hard. To her credit, Kathy didn't flinch away, but rather glared right back at him.

"I'll tell you what's going on, Detective. You're going to walk out of here, and forget about Jack. Forget about this case. We appreciate the care you've shown him…"

"Doesn't look like it from where I'm standing," she said sourly. Owen's expression softened just fractionally.

"I know what you did for him, Detective. I know you sat with him until the rescue workers freed him, and I know you stayed at the hospital when you didn't have to. Thankyou for doing that for him."

Kathy frowned, but some of her animosity evaporated just a little. Owen went on firmly.

"We do appreciate it, and so does Jack, but it's over with, as of right now."

And with that, the anger was back.

"You're insane if you think I'll just forget about this," she growled angrily.

"You will if you know what's good for you, Detective," Owen shot back, and Kathy blanched.

"Are you threatening me, Harper?"

"Take it however you want. You're not winning out over Torchwood on this."

Kathy uttered an incredulous laugh.

"You arrogant bastard. Do you really think that's all I care about? Getting one up over Torchwood? Bloody hell…"

"Then what is it about, Detective?" Owen asked scathingly. "You tell me."

Kathy paused, taking a moment to draw in a calming breath before speaking again.

"I've been doing some research, looking for assaults similar to the one on Jack. In the past two years, there have been eight. Not quite frequent enough to light up anyone's radar, but obvious enough to anyone who bothers to look. All the victims have been men, and all of them tortured and pack raped. There's just one significant difference between them and Jack, though."

"And what's that?" Owen asked, not entirely sure that he should be asking. Kathy stared at him hard.

"None of the other victims lived through their ordeals. Jack is the first to have survived."

Owen felt the bottom drop out of his stomach.

"Fuck…"

"Exactly. Now, are you really going to tell me that you won't do anything to help me catch the bastards that attacked your captain?"

Owen was suddenly feeling very sick, but he managed to maintain his resolve.

"I'm sorry, Detective Swanson. I really am. But there is nothing we can do to help you. Jack is off limits to you, as of right now."

She stared at him for several long seconds before turning on her heel and storming out of the office. Owen waited until she was gone before sinking into the chair behind the counter, and burying his face in his hands.

* * *

Kathy literally burst out of the office, and strode away across the Plass, beyond furious. Fine – let Torchwood have their secrets. She would do this without their help. She stormed away, so caught up in her own anger that she never paid any attention to the young woman who passed her, heading towards the tourist office that she had just exited.

The detective went on her way, more determined than ever to see the case through, no matter what obstacles Torchwood threw in her path.

* * *

When the door of the tourist office opened again, Owen was sure that it was Kathy Swanson come back for round two. He sat up, bracing himself for another fight, only to find himself staring at a young woman who couldn't have been more than twenty.

"Excuse me…" she said tentatively. Owen help up a hand to stop her.

"Sorry, love. We're closed. If you need information, there's a booth on the other side of the square."

"Actually," she said, "I'm looking for a friend."

Owen bit back a sigh.

"This isn't missing persons, sweetheart. You'll need the police for that."

"No, he's not missing," the girl said, with the first hint of impatience creeping into her voice. "His name is Jack. Jack Harkness. Looks, this _is_ Torchwood, isn't it?"

Owen blinked comically, caught completely off-guard. The young woman went on quickly.

"Look, just tell him that Tish is here to see him."

Owen swallowed the urge to make a snide remark about one night stands, and got wearily to his feet. He'd tell Jack, and if Jack didn't know her… or _want_ to know her… then she'd be out on her arse before she knew what was going on.

"Wait here," he told her tersely, and slipped through into the back room, where he could call Jack in privacy, away from prying eyes and ears.

* * *

Jack sat comfortably in the warmth of Myfanwy's nest, his eyes drifting closed as he took what had become a rare pleasure in the attention that he was getting from the prehistoric creature. He took a good deal of comfort in knowing that there were no ulterior motives in the almost maternal way that she was fussing over him – unless, of course, he counted the obvious grab for the bar of chocolate that he'd slipped into his shirt's breast pocket before climbing up to the nest.

No, the pterodactyl expected virtually nothing of him except regular meals and a clean nest, and in return for that he got the pleasure of being mothered by a dinosaur.

The chocolate was now long gone, eagerly demolished, and now Myfanwy was cawing affectionately and playfully mussing his hair with her long beak. He felt a gentle nudge against his shoulder, and smiled faintly as he reached up to rub the pterodactyl's neck.

"I know, sweetheart," he murmured. "I love you, too."

His Bluetooth earpiece suddenly blinked to life and emitted a distinct beep, disturbing the moment of peace, and he watched regretfully as Myfanwy hopped away from him; her affectionate mood spoiled by the interruption. He spoke, not bothering to try and conceal his irritation.

"This had better be good. I was busy with Myf."

"_Sorry, Jack_," Owen's voice answered in a tone that suggested he wasn't particularly sorry at all. "_But I've got a girl up here_…"

He paused mid-sentence, half-expecting to hear a crack about it being too early to be out on the pull, but no such line was forthcoming. Instead, Jack spoke even more snappishly than before.

"Today, Owen."

"_Sorry. Like I said, there's this girl up here in the tourist office, and she says she knows you_."

"That doesn't exactly narrow the field."

"_Right. Sorry. She said her name is Tish. Jack, she knows about Torchwood_."

Jack froze, his breath catching in his throat as he was assaulted by yet more memories that he'd tried so hard to suppress. Then, just as quickly as they'd surfaced, those memories faded once more, and he felt his mood lift slightly at the thought of seeing Tish again.

"Bring her down, Owen."

"_Excuse me?_"

The young medic sound predictably incredulous, but Jack was of no mind to be explaining anything.

"You heard me. Bring her down to my office. She's okay. She's a friend."

_A really, really good friend_, he thought silently as he picked himself up slowly and began the descent back down into the main body of the Hub.

He headed straight back to his office, paying only cursory attention to the way that Ianto, Gwen and Tosh were trying almost too hard to be inconspicuous in what they were currently doing. He put it down to still being nervous around him and chose to ignore it, along with the deep, aching hurt that he felt.

Back in his office, he quickly slipped his greatcoat back on. He'd left it off to visit Myfanwy – she had a tendency to try and nip pieces off it for her nest. Once more protected by the all-encompassing coat, he sank into his chair and tried to at least make a show of working.

Minutes later, the door to his office finally opened, and Owen showed in a young woman whose face lit up at the sight of the Captain.

"Jack!"

He stood up to greet her, some cheeky comment on the tip of his tongue, when she flew towards him and wrapped her arms around him in a ferocious hug.

Jack's heart skipped a beat and his stomach lurched unpleasantly at the enthusiastic embrace, and it was all he could do not to shove her away from him. Over her head, he saw Owen wince before reluctantly retreating. Struggling not to tremble at the contact, Jack tentatively hugged her back.

"Hey, gorgeous. It's good to see you."

And it was, he couldn't deny that. The last time he'd seen Tish had been as he escorted her and her parents onto a UNIT helicopter that would take them off the Valiant and back to their home in London.

"You too, Jack," she murmured, clinging to him tightly. "Really good to see you."

"C'mon," he said with a smile that was slightly more genuine as he guided her to the couch in his office. "Come and sit down, sweetheart. Do you want coffee?"

"Only if it's no trouble…"

Jack snorted, starting to regain some of his stride once she'd let go of him.

"Hardly." He tapped his Bluetooth. "Ianto? Could you bring up coffee, please?"

After getting an affirmative reply from his lover, Jack returned his attention to Tish, and was slightly taken aback by the excited grin on her face.

"What?" he asked, and her grin widened.

"Ianto? As in, Ianto Jones?"

"The same," Jack confirmed, feeling slightly bemused by her reaction. The look on Tish's face by then was positively gleeful.

"So… You and he?"

She didn't need to elaborate. Jack knew what she meant. He knew also knew he should have anticipated it, given how much he'd talked to Tish about Ianto during that year, but somehow he had still been caught off-guard, and the could barely keep himself from cringing as the unpleasant memories of Ianto's perceived rejection clawed their way back to the surface.

"Jack?" Tish asked hesitantly, starting to realise that something wasn't right. "What is it? What's wrong?"

He forced a smile onto his face, trying hard to focus on Ianto's declaration of love to try and blot out the bad memories. The only problem was that one lot of bad memories invariably gave rise to others, and oh, but he was desperate not to open the gateway to _those_ memories.

"Nothing, gorgeous," he told her lightly. "Everything's fine."

He knew from the look on her face, though, that she didn't believe him.

"Jack…"

"How are your parents?" he asked abruptly, perhaps with a little more enthusiasm than might have been warranted. Tish seemed slightly taken aback, but recovered quickly.

"They're doing okay. You know they're back together?"

Jack chuckled softly.

"Yeah. Bet Clive's old girlfriend fried a few brain cells trying to figure out how that one happened."

"You're not wrong," Tish said with a giggle. "She hung around for a little while before she finally took the hint and went off looking for some other sucker to fund her lifestyle. Now, Mum and Dad are off on a holiday together. Second honeymoon, they called it. Leo's gone home again, Martha's off somewhere with her new boyfriend… It was just me on my own, so I decided it was time to take you up on that invitation."

Jack smiled and took a moment to brace himself emotionally before leaning in to brush a feather-light kiss over her forehead.

"Well, I'm glad you did."

His office door swung open, and Ianto let himself in, carrying two steaming mugs of coffee.

"Ianto," Jack said, "this is Tish Jones, a very good friend of mine."

Ianto offered her a warm smile as he handed her one of the mugs.

"Pleased to meet you, Tish."

"Likewise." She glanced from Jack back to Ianto, grinning delightedly. "I hope this big bozo is treating you right, Ianto. I told him I'd be after him if he didn't."

Far from the laughter she'd anticipated, though, she could have sworn that Ianto actually paled slightly. The younger man's eyes fixed onto Jack who, in turn, was staring intently back at Ianto. She suddenly got the powerful feeling that there was something going on here that was intensely personal.

Jack broke the stalemate, and spoke in a soft, trembling voice that Tish found to be almost disturbing.

"I'm trying to. I really am."

Ianto's breath caught, and he stepped around and ran his fingers lovingly over Jack's hair.

"You are, cariad. I promise you, you are."

Silence reigned briefly, almost oppressive in its quality, before Ianto finally straightened up and hurried from the room. Tish watched him go, and then looked back to Jack and was startled to realise that he was on the verge of tears.

"Jack," she said softly, but in a compelling tone, "what is going on here? Please, tell me what's wrong, because something definitely is. I'm not a fool, I can see something's wrong."

He smiled tremulously and shook his head roughly, moving to get up. Anxious not to let him go, Tish shot her hand out and clamped it down over his wrist to keep him beside her.

Jack went rigid at the sudden pressure on what was still a hyper-sensitive part of his body. His breath caught in his throat, and his eyes glazed over as he quickly became lost in his memories.

"Jack?" Tish asked, suddenly frightened by his lack of response. "Jack, what's wrong?"

Even as she watched him, though, she thought she knew what was wrong. It was something she'd seen before, during that year. She would come to feed him, only to find him unresponsive and in a state of near catatonia; trapped by the Master within the horror of his memory of whatever torture he'd most recently endured. It had happened frequently enough that she'd been able to devise methods to draw Jack out of that state – a kiss, or a hug. Usually some degree of intimate contact was sufficient to bring him back to reality.

It broke her heart to realise that he was still suffering like this now, months after their ordeal had ended.

Letting go of his wrist and got up on her knees beside him, intending to do what she had done so many times before, and kiss him to draw him back out of the prison of his own mind. She was within millimetres of making contact with him when a voice shouted at her from the doorway of Jack's office.

"Stop!"

She froze, and looked around to see Ianto had reappeared. At first, irrationally, she thought that he just didn't want her kissing Jack – possessive boyfriend, maybe? But there was no jealousy there on the man's face; only fear.

Slowly, Tish leaned back, glancing uneasily between Ianto and the near catatonic Captain.

"It's okay," she tried to reassure him. "He's gotten like this before. I can help him..."

"Please, stop," Ianto begged her even as she began to lean towards Jack again. "Don't touch him. I don't know what you think this is, but trust me. It's not what you think. If you touch him now, he might hurt you."

Tish couldn't help but scoff.

"Don't be ridiculous..."

"Please," Ianto said hoarsely as he walked over. "Just trust me."

He then crouched down in front of Jack, peering up at him in deep concern. This was far worse a turn than the one that had happened when he'd attempted to kiss Jack a couple of nights ago. Right at that moment, Jack was sitting frozen on the edge of the couch, his eyes dim and unseeing, and his chest barely moving as he took only tiny, intermittent gasps of air.

Not willing to waste time to try and force Tish from the office, Ianto reached up and rested one palm lightly on Jack's knee. It was the only contact he dared to make.

"Jack? C'mon, cariad, I know you can hear me. Wake up, Jack. Please, come back to me, love. You're safe, those men can't hurt you anymore. Do you hear me, Jack? You're safe, totally safe. Now snap out of it, please. You're starting to scare Tish."

Tish frowned a little, but didn't protest at him using her to try and draw Jack back out. He was right, it _did_ frighten her, especially as she began to realise that whatever was the bottom cause of this, it had nothing to do with that year. Which meant, she realised with growing nausea, that something horribly traumatic had happened to Jack in the time since they'd last parted company.

She sat back a little further, and watched as Ianto gradually drew Jack back to reality with murmured words of comfort, and feather-light touches. Finally, the glazed look faded from Jack's eyes altogether, to be replaced by a look that was full of grief and despair.

"Ianto..." Jack whimpered as his eyes found his young lover. The Welshman finally acted and sat himself carefully on the couch, on the other side of Jack. He guided the Captain to lean in against him as he finally broke down.

"That's it, anwylyd," Ianto murmured, stroking Jack's hair softly. "Let it out, don't hold it in."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tish watching in confused dismay, but there was no shock or horror on her face. She'd said that she knew what to do, which told Ianto that Jack had suffered PTSD turns like this before, and that she had been witness to them.

The minutes ticked by, and gradually Jack's heart-broken sobs eased, and finally stopped altogether. It was another couple of minutes, though, before Ianto realised that Jack had actually dozed off where he sat slumped against him. Deciding against waking Jack up and trying to coax him into going to lie down, Ianto spoke to Tish in a low whisper.

"Tish, help me lay him down on the couch."

Tish immediately moved from where she sat, and helped Ianto to lay Jack down on his side on the couch without waking him up. Ianto slipped a cushion beneath his head, and gently tugged the greatcoat so that it covered his legs, before pulling the rug that draped over the back of the couch down to cover Jack with.

"This isn't about what happened on the Valiant, is it?" Tish said softly, and Ianto looked at her quizzically.

"What do you mean?"

Suddenly, Tish realised that Jack had not told this young man anything of that year. And if he hadn't told the man that he was in love with, then it was a fair bet that that he hadn't told the rest of his team anything, either. If that was the case, then it was not her place to be talking about it, either… was it?

She wondered on that. After all, she had experienced it as well, and wasn't it her choice whether she talked about the terrible things she had seen? Even if that included witnessing a brave, good man being repeatedly tortured and killed at the hands of a psychopath?

Her gaze went back to the Captain. His expression was far from peaceful, even in sleep, and the tear tracks that marked his cheeks were just more evidence of a pain that she was starting to realise that she didn't understand at all. Turning, she faced Ianto and spoke in a soft, tense tone.

"What happened to him?"

Ianto looked past her to Jack for a long minute before motioning to the door.

"Let's go out of here, leave him be for a while."

She nodded, and followed him out of the office in silence.

* * *

_tbc_...


	15. Unexpected Blessings

Owen, Gwen and Tosh were all hovering in the main body of the Hub, watching as Ianto and Tish emerged from the office. It was obvious that they knew something had happened, but hadn't wanted to intrude unless Ianto actually called for help.

"Ianto?" Gwen asked. "What happened?"

"Jack had a turn," Ianto answered, realising at the same time that he didn't quite know how to explain what had happened. "He froze up… It took me a few minutes to get through to him."

"And is he all right now?" Tosh asked.

"He's sleeping," Ianto told them bleakly. "He cried himself to sleep."

Owen turned to Tish, his expression suspicious and angry.

"What the hell did you do to him?"

Tish winced just a little at the anger that was radiating out at her from the other man, but didn't back down.

"I'm not sure," she said quietly. "I asked him what was wrong, but he wouldn't say. He started to get up and I grabbed him by the wrist to stop him…"

"You grabbed his wrist?" Owen echoed, cutting her off short. "Bloody hell, no wonder he had a turn."

"Uh, excuse me," Gwen put in tentatively. "Who are you, exactly?"

Tish sighed. It was explanation time, and she offered up a silent apology to Jack for anything she was about to say that might cause difficulties for him further down the track.

"My name is Tish Jones," she told them, "and I spent a year on the Valiant with Jack. My parents, Jack, the Doctor and I were all prisoners of the man who was masquerading as Harold Saxon."

Silence met her blunt statement.

"I'm sorry. Did you just say the Doctor?" Owen asked incredulously. Tish nodded, painfully aware from one of the many stories Jack had told her that Torchwood had originally been established in enmity with the Doctor.

"Yes, I did. And yes, he's the same Doctor that Torchwood was built to capture. And I know I've probably said too much right there…"

"It's all right, Tish," Gwen reassured her. "Jack abolished that edict… at least where Torchwood Three is concerned… back when he took over at the beginning of the year Two Thousand. We know the Doctor isn't our enemy. Now, please tell us what you meant about a year on the Valiant. Because Jack was only gone from here for three months."  
Tish glanced around, spotted the couch and made a beeline for it. The others followed, and they were soon seated relatively comfortably.

"It's hard to explain. Truth is, I don't really understand it myself. But there was this paradox, and it lasted a year. When it was broken, time went backwards, and everything went back to the way it was before the paradox started. Only thing is, only those of us who were on the Valiant remember it. No one else does."

"Jack was a prisoner for a whole year?" Tosh asked softly in dismay, and Tish nodded.

"It was pretty awful for all of us, but he had it worst of all. See, the Master… that's who Harold Saxon really was… He knew Jack couldn't die, and he took full advantage of it."

"He tortured Jack," Ianto said numbly.

"Yeah," Tish confirmed sadly. "He did some really horrible things… I'm not going to tell you what. If Jack wants to tell you, that's up to him. I probably shouldn't even be telling you this much, but I was there, too, and I think I've got a right to talk to who I want about it."

"Bloody hell," Owen moaned, burying his face in his hands. "And we had no fucking clue. We just went off on him for taking off on us. No wonder he was so out of sorts when he came home."

"And now this…" Gwen added miserably. Tish looked around at the four of them, feeling the nerves take hold once more.

"What's happened? Because the last time I saw him in that state, it was after the Master tortured him for hours on end."

Silence met the question as the four Torchwood members stared at each other, each one trying to decide where to start. Finally, it was Gwen who broke the silence.

"He was attacked, on Christmas Eve."

Tish blinked, not quite comprehending the situation.

"Attacked?"

"It was bad," Gwen murmured, wincing at how in adequate her words sounded.

"Well… How bad?" Tish pressed, puzzled by their reluctance to talk. Abruptly, Owen got up and walked over to the nearest computer, quickly calling up CCTV footage from when Jack had been confined to the little room, courtesy of his injuries.

"Come over here, Tish."

She went reluctantly, and looked at the monitor that he was indicating.

"Oh my god…" The horror in her voice matched the look of shock and dismay on her face as she stared at the footage of Jack in the bed. "What happened? Who did that to him?"

"We don't know yet," Owen said softly. "We don't know who, and we don't know why."

Tears filled her eyes, and she turned away from the monitor in distress.

"This is wrong! It's all wrong!"

"You don't have to tell us that," Owen said bitterly.

Abruptly, a new thought occurred to Tish, and she looked at Ianto in growing dread.

"I was going to kiss him back there. You stopped me because I was going to kiss him. He… He was raped, wasn't he?"

Owen pinched at the bridge of his nose, and tried to avoid answering. They all knew the truth now, but as yet they hadn't faced up to it together. Maybe, Owen mused, that was exactly what they needed to do in order to be able to start helping Jack. Because if they couldn't face it, then what hope did Jack have?

"Yes," he answered suddenly, turning to face Tish, and at the same time directing his gaze towards Gwen, Ianto and Toshiko. "He was raped. Pack raped, to be specific."

Tish gave a soft sob, and Gwen finally took pity on her, shifting over to sit beside her so that she could embrace the young woman.

"I'm sorry," Tish choked out miserably. "It's just, that's the one line that the Master never crossed. He never did that to Jack, and he never let anyone else do it to him, either. I don't think it had anything to do with the Master being worried about Jack, mind you, because I overheard him saying something about not wanting to get contaminated. Jack didn't care. He was just grateful that it never went to those extremes, because he said it was the one thing he couldn't have coped with. He told me that he could cope with the physical torture because that was all about hate. He said sex was about love, and everything else that was good about the human race, and that it shouldn't ever be about hate. Jack told me that he couldn't have coped if the Master had raped him… or had someone else rape him… because it would have taken something that he'd only ever seen as good, and twisted it into something evil."

A thick, oppressive silence reigned. Tish had, perhaps unintentionally, put the whole situation into perspective.

"He's been here for so long, though," Gwen murmured in confused dismay. "Is it really possible that he hadn't seen anything like this before?"

"This is Jack we're talking about, Gwen," Owen reminded her. "You know what he's like. Acts like he fucking knows everything, but there's still a kind of innocence about the bloke."

Four incredulous looks focused on him, but Owen wasn't backing down in his assessment of Jack's character.

"I mean it," he insisted. "Tish here has just told us that he went through a whole year of torture, but it takes this to knock him on his arse."

"Hang on," Tish protested. "I never said he walked away from that year unscathed…"

"I'm not arguing with you there, love," Owen assured her. "All I'm saying is that he was obviously still functioning. Right now, he isn't functioning. He's barely coping from one hour to the next, let alone from one day to the next."  
Tish fell silent, reluctantly accepting what Owen was trying to say.

"So what do we do?" Toshiko asked. "How do we help him?"  
Owen shrugged helplessly. He was as much at a loss as the rest of them, and he hated it.

"I don't know. I really don't fucking know."

* * *

"You know, we were going to invite Jack to join us for Christmas," Tish said as she watched the closed door of Jack's office. Ianto had retreated back there a little while ago, saying that Jack was unlikely to sleep for long, and shouldn't be left alone.

"Why didn't you?" Toshiko wondered. Her expression was guarded as she spoke, giving away nothing of the conflict that had clouded Torchwood since before Christmas. Oblivious to any tension, Tish shrugged.

"He said not to."

Gwen, Toshiko and Owen exchanged looks.

"Sorry, who said?" Gwen pressed. Tish rubbed at her eyes. She was starting to feel seriously ill.

"The Doctor."

Started silence met the statement, and it was eventually broken by Owen.

"The Doctor spent Christmas Day with your family?"

"Yeah. He showed up late Christmas morning, looking absolutely shattered. Never said what was wrong… although I reckon it might have had something to do with that spaceship that nearly crashed into Buckingham Palace really early on Christmas morning. Anyway, he just said that he wanted to spend a normal Christmas for once where no one got hurt. Mum said we ought to call Jack, and make it a proper celebration, but the Doctor stopped her. He said not to bother, that Jack was busy and he wouldn't be able to make it."

"Sounds like he didn't want Jack around either," Owen muttered, his eyes shifting to look towards Jack's office. "Just brilliant, that is."

"I thought that, too," Tish admitted. "And I asked him about it, but he said it wasn't like that. He said he planned on coming back here to Cardiff to see Jack some time soon, but that he just didn't think Jack was ready."

"How do you mean?" Gwen asked, confused. "Ready for what?"

"Ready to see the Doctor again," Tish explained. "I think the Doctor believed that Jack is angry at him… You know, for everything the Master put him through during that year. He said he needed to find a way to make it up to Jack before he saw him again, and Christmas just wasn't the right time."

"He would've made it up to Jack ten times over if he'd been there to save him from the bastards that attacked him," Owen muttered. "And it'd be a bloody good time right now, too, because we're at a fucking loss here."

"Anyway, the Doctor stayed until evening, and then he was gone again. Then Mum and Dad were off on their holiday the next day, and I just didn't think about it again until now."

"Do you think he knew?" Toshiko wondered quietly. "About Jack, I mean. That he was… in trouble."

"God, I hope not," Gwen murmured.

"If he did, and I find out about it," Owen said heatedly, "then he'll bloody want to stay away. Because I'll kill him if it turns out that he knew what was happening to Jack, and didn't do anything to help."

"He couldn't have known," Tish insisted. "He wouldn't have let Jack suffer like that! Not after everything else that's happened!"

"I hope you're right," Owen said grimly. "For Jack's sake, you'd better be right."

* * *

Jack awoke less than half an hour after falling asleep to find Ianto sitting on the floor by the couch, watching over him sadly.

"Hey there," Ianto said softly. "How are you feeling?"

"Wasted," Jack admitted bleakly. His gaze flickered past Ianto, taking in the otherwise empty office. "Where's Tish?"

"Outside, with the others. Jack…"

Confusion illuminated Jack's face. Even in his muzzy state, he could detect the stricken tone in Ianto's voice.

"What? What is it…?"

"Tish told us about the Valiant."

Ianto was seriously alarmed by the sickening shade of green that Jack suddenly turned, and was genuinely afraid for a moment that Jack was about to throw up. He watched fearfully as Jack curled in on himself, clutching at his stomach and groaning softly. Reaching out tentatively, Ianto stroked his fingers gently over Jack's hair. It badly needed a wash, he mused distantly.

"I'm sorry," Jack whimpered, and Ianto felt dismayed at the miserable apology.

"Cariad, stop apologising! You don't have anything to be sorry for. I'm not mad at you."

Jack shuddered.

"I wanted to tell you… but how could I? How could I explain about a whole year that technically never happened? You… You would never have believed me. You would have just thought I was making up excuses for why I left."

Ianto didn't cease stroking Jack's hair; he slowly widened the movement of his fingers to brush soothingly over the older man's forehead and cheek.

"We understand why you left, Jack. You needed answers, and the Doctor was the only one who could give them to you. But now we also know what kept you from coming home to us for so long."

"I wanted the Doctor to bring me back to just after I left, but he couldn't do that," Jack murmured. "It had to be after everything that happened on the Valiant… everything that the world knows about. But then, he kept us in the TARDIS for a little while, too… I guess, to try and help us deal with it all." A strained laugh escaped Jack's lips. "How long does it take, exactly, to come to terms with a year of captivity and torture?"

"A lot longer than you've had," Ianto murmured. "And now this happens…"

"You want to know the crazy part?" Jack asked, and went on without waiting for Ianto to respond. "What those men did to me on Christmas Even was nothing compared to what the Master did to me. It really wasn't."

"But there's something about it that's worse," Ianto corrected him softly. "Isn't there?"

Jack shut his eyes, but it did nothing to stop the tears.

"Was it because they raped you?" Ianto asked and Jack began to weep, unable to hold it in.

"He never did that to me," Jack choked out. "It was the one thing he never did, and he didn't let anyone else do it to me, either. It wasn't because he cared at all. He said he wasn't going to… to contaminate himself by touching me like that, and he didn't want anyone else to, either. I didn't care what his reasons were. I was just grateful that he never… never did that. Sex shouldn't be used like that, Ianto. It's meant to be an expression of love, not hate. Even when there's no commitment behind it, it's still an expression of love."

"I know, cariad," Ianto murmured. "I know."

"I don't know why this hurts so much worse, though," Jack admitted miserably. "I don't understand why I can't just push it aside and get on with life. Why can't I do that, Ianto?"

Ianto was silent for a long moment while he thought. It was not a simple question to answer, and yet he knew he needed to try and find a simple answer.

An idea occurred to him, and he spoke quietly.

"Jack, why were you on the Valiant in the first place?"

"To stop the Master," Jack answered simple.

"And you had no opportunities to escape?"

"Once, just after the Toclafane first came through. I could have used my vortex manipulator to escape, but I gave it to Martha instead."

"Why?" Ianto wondered. He tried to keep his tone even, but it horrified him to think that Jack had effectively sacrificed himself like that.

"The Master would have killed her!" Jack burst out indignantly. Ianto nodded patiently.

"Bear with me, cariad. "Tell me, why didn't you escape with her?"

"Because it would have meant leaving the Doctor there on his own," Jack replied without hesitation. "I couldn't do that. I couldn't abandon him."

"So you stayed on the Valiant for him," Ianto said softly, his stomach churning at the thought.

"I had to," Jack whispered. "Me being on the Valiant, it distracted the Master. With me there, it kept the others from getting hurt, because he could keep hurting me, over and over."

"You were a buffer between the Master and the other prisoners," Ianto suggested.

"Yeah, I guess I was," Jack said with just a hint of bitterness. Then, suddenly, he stopped as realisation dawned in his pale blue eyes. "My being there… on that ship… protected the Doctor and the Jones family from being hurt by the Master. Because every time they did something that made him angry, he took it out on me. But I figured that was okay, because I could survive it. They wouldn't have. And Martha… She would never have forgiven me if I'd let anything happen to her family."

Ianto refrained from commenting that surely this Martha woman —of whom he'd frequently heard Jack speak so reverently — would have realised that Jack was in no position to actively help anyone. Instead, he caressed Jack's face lovingly, and used his thumb to gently brush away Jack's tears.

"My beautiful, brave Jack," he murmured as Jack dissolved into a fresh flood of tears. "Still trying to protect others when you couldn't even protect yourself."

"I suffered through that year because I had to," Jack choked out in between miserable, heart-broken sobs. "There was a reason for it, even if I didn't always know what it was. There was still a reason!"

"But what those men did to you…"

"There was no reason," Jack sobbed. "Just hate. Only hate…"

"Jack," Ianto whispered. "Why did they attack you?"

"Because they thought I was gay," Jack sobbed out. "They did it because I like other men."

Ianto felt sick to his stomach. A hate crime. It had been a hate crime, nothing to do with Torchwood. His heart broke all over again at the thought of Jack being exposed to that sort of hatred, and he felt a wash of determination to make the culprits pay.

"Anwylyd," he whispered. He wanted so much to be able to hug Jack, to kiss him and take away the hurt, but not daring to for fear of hurting him… or perhaps even worse, sending him into a fresh panic. He was still trying to decide what to do when he was startled by movement around him. Looking up, he found that Owen, Toshiko, Gwen and Tish had come in and were settling themselves around the couch.

Gradually, as Jack's sobs faded and his distress eased, he too became aware of his team's presence. For a brief moment, he seemed on the cusp of panicking all over again, before acceptance overcame fear, and he settled with a slight shudder.

"You know you can't pretend this never happened, don't you, Jack?" Gwen asked him gently. "You need to talk about it, for your own sake."

Awkwardly, Jack sat up.

"And then what?" he asked bitterly. "We track down the men who attacked me? What good would that do now?"

"For starters, it'd stop them from hurting anyone else," Owen pointed out quietly. When Jack shot him a look, he explained himself grimly. "You're not their first victim, Jack. You're just the first one to have lived."

The shock and horror on Jack's face was palpable.

"There have been others?"

"Remember the Brecon Beacons, Jack," Tosh said, with an apologetic glance at Ianto. "How would it have been if we'd gone and just left those people there to carry on with what they'd been doing? We couldn't have, and you know it. And we can't just move on now without trying to put a stop to it."

"What am I supposed to do?" Jack asked in a strained voice, hating the helplessness that he was feeling. "What do you want from me?"

"Talk to us, Jack," Gwen urged him. "Tell us what happened, from your own lips."

He opened his mouth to say no, but surprised himself when, instead, he began to talk about the attack.

"I don't remember which pub I went to," he admitted, his gaze fixed firmly on his hands. "Just that it was somewhere in Butetown. I didn't care at the time. I just wanted to go somewhere, get drunk and forget about everything."

Three pairs of eyes turned briefly to Ianto, who had the grace to look guilty. Jack continued to speak, oblivious to the shared looks.

"It was a set-up, but I was feeling too damn sorry for myself to realise it. A young guy approached me at the bar, tried a few moves. I was going to leave with him, but I changed my mind. Felt too much like a betrayal. It was too late, though. I'd shown I was interested, and I guess that was all they were watching for. They ambushed me outside, by the SUV. There were six of them altogether."

"Fucking cowards," Owen growled heatedly. Jack glanced up at him, and then dropped his gaze again.

"They pinned me to the SUV… smashed my face into the window and used one of our stun guns to knock me out. I don't know where they took me. When I woke up, I was tied up in the back of the SUV. I tried to fight when they pulled me out, but they used the gun again." He faltered, shaking slightly at the memory. "Next time I woke up, I'd been stripped naked, and they were tying me to a bed with barbed wire."

"Oh my god," Tish whimpered, tears filling her eyes. The barbed wire was one gruesome detail that she had not been told about by the others. Jack went on, his tone dull as he tried to suppress the pain and horror of the experience.

"I knew what they were going to do to me. It was kind of obvious when they all started stripping off. I didn't want to believe it, but the first guy…" Jack swallowed convulsively. "They gagged me with the wire after the first one finished, to try and shut me up. I guess I was making a lot of noise. They… They all had a go at me. A couple of them came back for a second turn, too. One of them broke my arm with a tire iron when I tried to fight.

"I guess it didn't go on for that long… but it felt like it did. One of them had a knife, thought he'd get creative with it. He carved Bible verses all over my body. I think they'd partially healed by the time the police got to me, so no one actually realised the meaning." He shuddered again, looking thoroughly ill. "I was only half-conscious when they finally left, but I remember one of them leaned over me. Son of a bitch kissed me, and then he said 'Merry Christmas, you fucking poof. Not such a pretty boy anymore, are you'. Then they were gone. I don't know how long it was between when they left, and when the police arrived."

"Oh god, Jack," Gwen whispered in dismay.

Jack looked away, unable to meet their gazes, and his shoulders started to tremble as shock threatened all over again. Deciding to take a chance, Ianto slipped his arms gently around Jack's trembling body, and he guided Jack to lean in against him. For a brief moment, Jack resisted. But then, his resistance collapsed, and he folded in against Ianto with a muffled sob.

"We have to find these bastards," Owen said quietly. "Jack, we can't just let this go. Even if you're not directly involved yourself, let us follow it through. Don't let them get away with it."

"Okay."

It came out severely muffled by Ianto's suit jacket, but nonetheless understandable."

"Good," Owen murmured, quietly relieved they no longer had to sneak around behind Jack's back. "Good man."

Slowly, Jack looked up, as though reluctant to detach himself from Ianto.

"You want to start now?"

"Nah, mate. I want you to get some rest now. We'll take strategies tomorrow. Ianto, why don't you get him out of here? Take him back to your place?"

Ianto nodded before looking questioningly to Jack.

"Jack? Do you want to come back with me to mine?"

Even as Ianto watched, Jack breathed a soft sigh of relief, grateful to be given the freedom to choose.

"Yeah," he agreed softly. "I… I'd like that."

Moving gently and carefully, Ianto stood up.

"I'll go and finish up a couple of things, then, and we'll get going. Won't be long."

They all filed out one by one until only Owen was left. The medic sat down carefully on the couch beside Jack, taking care not to make incidental contact.

"Jack, I wanted to ask you about something. Detective Swanson…"

Jack's expression clouded into something unreadable.

"What about her?"

Owen held his hands up, palms out, in a defensive gesture.

"Relax, Jack. I just wanted to say that she wants to see you again."

"She can't," Jack mumbled. "Not yet."

"I know that, mate. Just need you to know that she's trying. Jack…"

"What, Owen?"

Owen ignored Jack's burgeoning anger, and continued to speak calmly.

"Why did you let her come into the Hub to see you in the first place? I'm not gonna say it was a fucking stupid idea… even though it was… but I'm just curious."

Jack practically deflated right in front of Owen's eyes.

"It's hard to explain."

"So try."

Jack rubbed compulsively at his wrists.

"When the police came, it didn't take long for word to get around… you know, about me. They all wanted to come in and get a look. It was like a damned parade, Owen. Most of them were laughing at me, and there was this one guy who was standing near the door making jokes! They all thought it was funny. Captain Jack got himself screwed over. Really fucking hilarious."

Owen didn't so much as crack a smile.

"None of us are laughing, mate."

"I know… but they did. Except for Kathy."

Jack fell quiet, and Owen waited patiently for Jack to collect his thoughts.

"I thought she'd laugh at me, too, when she arrived. But she didn't. She went off on the cop who'd been making jokes, and she kicked everyone out of the room. She stayed with me, though. Even when I was screaming, she stayed. She didn't have to, but she did… even after they way I'd treated her."

"Did you know she stayed at the hospital for you, too?" Owen asked, and Jack shook his head slowly.

"No. I didn't know."

"Well, she did."

Jack slumped back against the couch.

"She had every right to laugh at me, but she didn't. She tried to give me back a little bit of dignity…"

"And you feel you owe her for that."

Jack was silent as he wrung his hands. After a long moment of observation, Owen reached over and covered Jack's hands with his own, stilling the nervous, incessant movement.

"She's done right by you, Jack. I'll give her that much. But we don't owe her anything. You don't owe her anything. Especially not after she let those pictures of you get aired on the bloody news."

Jack looked back up at him tiredly.

"You really think she had anything to do with that, Owen? You think she behaved like she did towards me, only to let that happen?"

"No, I suppose not," Owen conceded. "But I'll bet she knows who did do it, and it still comes down to the same thing. All cops together." Jack looked away again, and Owen sighed softly. "C'mon, mate. We'll find Ianto, and you can get out of here for the night."

Tish was waiting for him as they emerged from the office, and Jack offered her an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, beautiful. Not exactly the visit you were hoping for, I know."

She approached him, but took care to give him his space, making no attempt to make physical contact with him.

"It's okay, Jack. I… I'd like to stay around and help, if you're all right with that. But I'll understand if you'd rather I go."

Jack looked past her to Owen, who shrugged.

"It's okay by me. Could do with an extra pair of hands to pick up the slack for now."

"That's settled, then," Jack murmured. He sounded relieved, they all thought. Tish peered up at him quizzically.

"I ought to call Martha. She'll want to know…"

"No!" Jack burst out suddenly, startling everyone. "No, please… Don't call her."

Tish stared at him, clearly baffled, but she didn't argue with him.

"All right, Jack. I won't call her. I promise."

Again, Jack appeared to be relieved. Ianto ventured forward then. He was curious to know why Jack was against Tish contacting a woman whom he had heard Jack talking about with such reverence and, dare he think it, love; but now was not the time to ask Jack about it.

"Right, then. We'll be going, shall we?"

Gwen stepped up as Ianto began to lead Jack away. Though she was obvious making a visible effort not to crowd in on him, she still couldn't resist reaching out and taking hold of his arm. Mildly startled by the gesture, Jack jerked away from her, and nearly stumbled.

"I'm sorry," Gwen said anxiously, her expression stricken. Jack flushed red with shame at his own reaction and in an effort to conceal his embarrassment, he put his arms around her in a brief hug. It was a stiff and uncomfortable gesture, though, and only seemed to increase the tension in the air.

"C'mon," Ianto murmured, suddenly anxious to get Jack out of there. "Let's go home, cariad."

He held out his hand to Jack, who took it after just a moment's consideration.

"I don't get it," Gwen murmured in confusion once the two men had left. "All I did was touch his arm and he panicked, and yet he'll hold Ianto's hand!"

"Okay," Owen said flatly, "first of all, you did not just touch his arm. You grabbed him by the arm. Secondly, Ianto gave him the choice of physical contact. Thirdly… he loves Ianto. That's got to count for something."

Gwen couldn't keep a slight frown off her face.

"I thought he… loved all of us."

It was a weak save, and they all knew what had been on her lips before she stopped herself.

"Go home to Rhys, Gwen," Owen told her quietly. "Leave Ianto to look after Jack. Because believe me, right now he's the only one who can."

* * *

Ianto couldn't help but be surprised at the way Jack seemed to relax once they were safely ensconced in his apartment; so utterly different to how he had been only a short while ago.

The trip from the Hub to his home had been a tense one, with Jack sitting low in the passenger seat the entire way. Ianto thought that it was as if he was trying desperately to avoid being seen. It didn't particularly surprise him, but he couldn't help just wonder who it was that Jack wanted to avoid being seen by. Alternatively, he thought on a more sober note, it occurred to him that maybe there were certain individuals that Jack wanted to avoid seeing, as well. Detective Swanson, maybe… or perhaps the very men who had attacked him.

That was a sobering thought, and it got Ianto to wondering what he might do if Jack were to spot any of his attackers. He wondered, and at the same time found himself suddenly becoming almost painfully conscious of the gun that was so readily available in the glove box of his car.  
He found it best not to think too hard on that, and it became more or less a moot point once they were shut away within the sanctuary of Ianto's home. After securing the locks, Ianto urged Jack to sit himself on the couch, which he did after pulling the greatcoat tightly around his body. He then went to find different clothes for Jack to wear.

"Here," he said quietly, laying a pair of sweatpants, a t-shirt and sweater on the couch beside Jack. "Why don't you get changed, Jack? You'll be more comfortable. Then, if you like, I'll bring out the duvet and a couple of pillows, and we can just relax and watch some movies."

"I… I'd like to have a bath," Jack admitted softly.

"Sure," Ianto agreed easily. "Stay here, and I'll go and run it for you."

Jack watched him go, torn between getting up and following, and staying right where he was. Eventually, he decided on the former; picked up both himself and clothes Ianto had brought out for him and made his way through into the bathroom. Ianto glanced across at him as he walked in, and smiled.

"Won't take long. I've added some bath salts. They should help you to relax." He finished running the water, and got back to his feet. "Now, you can get in and have a good, long soak, and I'll see about food. If you like, I can order us some take-out, or just soup and toast…"

"I'm not really hungry, Ianto."

The admission didn't particularly surprise Ianto, but he was also conscious of the fact that Jack had eaten virtually nothing of substance since his body had finished healing. He was starting to look pale and gaunt, much how he'd looked after coming home from… Well, whatever it was that he'd disappeared to do.

"I know you're not, Jack, but you still need to eat. I'll just heat up some soup. That won't be too heavy on your stomach."

Jack didn't argue. He simply didn't have the energy in him for it.

Ianto stepped past him, brushing his fingertips lightly over Jack's shoulder as he went.

"I'll go and get the soup ready to heat up. Will you be all right here?"

Jack nodded wordlessly, his gaze fixed on the tub. The hot water looked incredibly inviting, and all of a sudden he couldn't wait to strip of his clothes and submerge himself.

"All right, then," Ianto murmured. "You have a good soak. I'll just leave the door open a fraction, okay? Give a shout if you need anything at all."

Again, Jack nodded. He waited until Ianto had left the room before stripping his clothes off one item at a time, pausing to fold each one carefully out of nervous habit.

Avoiding looking at himself in the mirror, Jack climbed into the tub and lowered himself down into the water, breathing a soft sigh of relief.

* * *

Ianto wandered around the apartment for nearly twenty minutes, tidying up here and there before finally venturing into the kitchen to heat up the soup, as promised. He was just emptying a tin of Jack's favourite soup into a saucepan when the doorbell rang. Cursing softly, he turned off the burner and went to see who was there. Slightly worse than the average Welsh curse slipped from his tongue when Gwen's voice floated through the door.

"Ianto, love, it's Gwen."

Swallowing an urge to snap, Ianto opened the door and let her in. She had her arms full with bags of fresh take-away and other newly bought items.

"I thought I'd bring some food around," she announced, marching past him to deposit the bags in the kitchen.

"That's very thoughtful of you," Ianto said with forced politeness, but Jack really isn't up to eating very much at the moment. I was just planning on heating up some soup…"

"Nonsense," Gwen snorted. "He'll feel better for getting some solid food into him. I brought his favourites. Now, where is he…?"

"Having a bath," Ianto said tightly.

"Oh… Well, I'll just wait on the couch, then, shall I? Couldn't spare a cup of coffee, could you? There's a love."

Ianto made the coffee, silently fuming at the unwarranted and unwanted invasion and wondering why he didn't simply turf her out. The last thing Jack needed right then was her fawning over him.

"Do you think he's all right?" Gwen asked as he brought the requested coffee over, in the smallest mug he'd been able to find. "Because I could just pop in and look in on him. I don't mind…"

"No, I'm sure you wouldn't," Ianto said tersely. "Jack, however, might." She blinked at him, and he sighed heavily. "He's okay, Gwen. Just please, let him have a little privacy."

If anything, she seemed more put-out.

"I'm just concerned about him, Ianto."

"You think I'm not?"

"Of course I don't! Look, all I'm trying to say is that I don't think you should be leaving him alone… You know, with him being in the state he is."

"Why, Gwen? What do you think I'm going to do?"

Gwen jumped a little and twisted around to find Jack standing there, in the clothes that Ianto had provided him with.

"Jack…"

"I'm fine," he said shortly. "Your concern is appreciated. Now you can go."

Gwen flushed red at the obvious dismissal.

"I just wanted to be sure you were all right, Jack…"

"I know, Gwen. I do appreciate it. I'm just… I'm sorry. I'm just not up to showing it right now."

She brightened visibly at his apology.

"That's all right, love. I understand."

_No, you don't_, Ianto thought in growing frustration. _You really don't._

"Well, perhaps I ought to get going," she said and, before Ianto fully realised what was happening, she stepped in to try and embrace Jack for the second time that day.

With an impending sense of doom and horror, Ianto could only watch as she took hold of his forearms and stretched up with the obvious intention of kissing him. He saw it coming only a split second in advance, and was helpless to prevent it.

Jack wrenched out of her grasp in a blind panic, and swung wildly in an attempt to protect himself. The back of his fist struck Gwen across the face, sending her reeling backwards into Ianto, and Jack flew backwards to the farthest corner of the room, where he crouched down and curled into a trembling ball.

"Oh god," Gwen groaned, wincing as she slowly regained her footing, and gingerly touched her face.

"It's not bleeding," Ianto said coldly, "but I imagine you're going to have one hell of a black eye tomorrow."

She looked from him to Jack, and back to Ianto again.

"I…"

"Don't," Ianto snapped, truly angry. "Don't say anything. Just go, before you do anymore damage."

"I was only…"

"I said don't!" Ianto exploded, and then forced himself to calm down when he heard Jack whimper in fear at his raised voice. He sucked in a long breath, willing himself to speak in an even tone. "You brought that on yourself, because you were so desperate to prove that you could still connect with him. And now I've got to try and calm him down all over again, all because you couldn't keep your bloody hands to yourself! Just go! Please!"

Gwen fled after uttering a whispered apology. Ianto locked the door after her, and then went to see to Jack.

"She's gone, cariad," Ianto murmured as he crouched down beside Jack. "It's just you and me now, love."

Jack said nothing, and Ianto couldn't be sure if Jack even knew he was there. He dared not try and touch him. After Gwen's disastrous attempt to prove she was still Jack's favourite, he dared not make any contact at all.

"Anwylyd," Ianto murmured. "You're safe. I promise, you're safe. Don't be afraid, it's all right. No one is going to hurt you here."

Ianto was genuinely afraid by then that Jack was about to hyperventilate, as he listened to the ragged, desperate gasps of breath that Jack was taking. If it came to it, to keep Jack from physically traumatising himself worse than he already had been, Ianto was prepared to consider forced sedation. He had the medical supplies to do it, along with the knowledge — a product of the time he had spent taking care of Lisa. He was just starting to think he had no choice, when Jack spoke in a shaky whisper.

"I hit her."

Relief flooded through Ianto.

"Don't worry about it, cariad. It's nothing she won't recover from."

"Didn't mean to," Jack said plaintively. He looked at Ianto, and the Welshman's heart clenched at the tears that fell from Jack's eyes. "Couldn't help it. I just… just panicked."

"It wasn't your fault," Ianto insisted. "She should have known better than to grab at you like that."

"But I don't understand," Jack admitted. "Why do I panic when she… or anyone else… touches me… but not you?"

"I don't know," Ianto said, "but I'm grateful for it." He held out his hand to Jack, who took it with only the slightest of hesitations. "God knows you have no good reason to trust me after what I did to you, but I'm grateful that you do."

He turned Jack's hand over gently in his, and allowed his thumb to rub gently over the pulse point in Jack's wrist. He made no attempt to make any further contact, leaving it entirely up to Jack whether he wanted to move closer or pull away.

Ianto sent up a silent prayer of gratitude when Jack shuffled closer, moving willingly into his young lover's protective embrace. Wrapping his arms very loosely around Jack's body, Ianto risked brushing a feather-light kiss across the top of Jack's head. Jack sighed softly and settled in against Ianto, resting his head on the younger man's shoulder.

"Let it out, anwylyd," Ianto whispered as Jack wept quietly. "Don't hold it in."

"I hate this," Jack said in between miserable sobs. "I'm supposed to be stronger than this. Why can't I just put it behind me, and get on with things?"

"I don't know," Ianto murmured. "I wish I had an answer for you, but I don't. I can't even honestly say I understand what you're going through. We're both flying blind here, Jack."

"Part of me wants to push you away," Jack admitted miserably, "and part of me never wants you to let me go. I'm terrified that if I give in to the side that doesn't want anyone to touch me, then you'll walk away from me and not come back."

"Not going to happen, anwylyd," Ianto murmured. "I love you, and I'm not going to abandon you, I promise. Even if you do push me away, I won't leave you. I'll just keep coming back to you."

They sat in silence, Ianto cradling Jack and humming softly. Slowly, oh so slowly, he felt Jack relaxing into his embrace and gradually calming down again.

"All right, now?" Ianto asked gently, and Jack nodded.

"Yeah. I think so."

"How about we move to the couch, then? Be a bit more comfortable than the floor."

Jack allowed Ianto to help him up, his face flame-red with embarrassment.

"I'm sor…"

"No, don't you say it," Ianto warned him lightly. "I told you, you have nothing to apologise for. We both need to accept that you're going to have moments like this. There's no need to be embarrassed about it."

Jack stared up at Ianto in wonder as he sank down onto the couch.

"I don't deserve you."

Tears threatened abruptly in Ianto's eyes, and he reached out to brush his fingertips tenderly against Jack's cheek. The older man flinched slightly at the contact, but resisted the urge to pull away.

"Think you could stomach some soup?" Ianto asked, and Jack nodded.

"A little, maybe." His gaze went to the bags of hot food that sat on the bench in Ianto's kitchen. "Gwen brought all of that?"

Ianto couldn't quite stop himself from wrinkling his nose in distaste at the mention of her.

"Unfortunately, yes. Don't worry, I wouldn't expect you to eat any of it."

Jack sighed a little.

"She meant well."

"I'm not so certain of that, Jack. I suspect her motives were less than pure. At the moment, it seems that she's trying to behave as though she's the only one who understands what you're going through. Now I never thought I'd say this, but Owen is showing more understanding than she is."

An odd, almost wistful look touched Jack's face.

"I knew he had it in him… to show compassion like that… but I never thought it'd be towards me."

"He does care about you," Ianto reminded him gently. "And I think that perhaps he feels like taking care of you now might go some ways towards absolving him for shooting you."

"I forgave him for that," Jack murmured with a frown.

"You did," Ianto agreed. "But I think he's still trying to forgive himself."

He left Jack to consider that while he heated up the soup. Jack was still sitting there, silent and thoughtful, when Ianto came back with two bowls on a tray. He set one down, and Jack was relieved to see that it was only half-full.

"There, see how you go with that," Ianto told him. "And if you still want more when you're done with that, there's more in the saucepan."

Jack took a sip, and sighed in contentment.

"Potato and bacon. My favourite."

Ianto smiled, and watched with quiet satisfaction as Jack slowly devoured the contents of his bowl. Perhaps his appetite was not quite as non-existent after all.

"Do you want a little more?" Ianto asked, watching with an amused and affectionate smile as Jack tried to scrape the last remaining drops from the bottom of the bowl. Jack looked torn.

"I don't think I could eat a lot more…"

"Here, then," Ianto murmured. He edged closer, to within arm's length, and scooped a spoonful out of his own bowl, holding it out to Jack. The Captain looked mildly bemused, but opened his mouth regardless to accept the spoonful of soup. He swallowed another half dozen spoonfuls before finally shaking his head to signal he'd had enough.

"I can't eat anymore, Ianto."

"That's all right, love. You did well. Feeling okay?"

Jack nodded slowly. His belly was comfortably full, he was warm and clean, and he felt safe. He was feeling okay."

The doorbell rang.

Ianto barely restrained himself from swearing, all too conscious of the way that Jack abruptly tensed up again at the sound. If that was Gwen come back for round two… Jack seemed to guess what he was thinking, and reached out to lightly touch Ianto's hand.

"She means well," he said softly, and Ianto forced a tight smile onto his face.

"Right."

Leaving Jack on the couch, he strode over to the door and all but flung it open, fully prepared for a fight. Anything he'd been psyching himself up to say, though, died on his lips as he stared at the person standing on the other side.

"Da…"

Geraint Jones raised an eyebrow almost comically at his son's stunned reaction.

"Ianto. I've been trying to reach you to let you know the baby arrived safely, but your phone has been turned off."

For a moment, Ianto was baffled, trying to think how that could possibly be when the phone was a vital piece of equipment for work. Then he remembered that he had two — one for work and one for personal use. His parents had the number for the personal mobile phone, and that phone had been stashed away in the glove box of his car since Christmas Eve.

He felt sick at the reminder.

"Oh, right…" he stammered, feeling like a right fool. "What was it, then?"

"A little boy," Geraint said with a definite touch of pride. "They named him Daffyd."

"That, ah… That's great," Ianto breathed. "Was that all?"

Again, the eyebrow show up in a familiar gesture.

"Aren't you going to invite me in, son?"

Ianto felt the breath literally freeze in his throat, and his brain seemed to shut down on him. A part of him — a big part — wanted to slam the door in his father's face and pretend he'd never shown up. But there was another part of him that whispered here was his chance to prove that he hadn't lied to Jack. Here was a chance to show some fortitude for once, consequences be damned. He loved his parents… but his life and future was with Jack.

Stepping back, Ianto ushered his father inside.

"Come in, Da. There's someone here that I want you to meet."

Geraint's eyebrow rose yet again, but he walked in regardless, and followed Ianto through to the living room. Jack started to get up, but Ianto laid a hand on his shoulder, exerting the gentlest of pressure to stop him.

"Stay there, cariad," he murmured, his heart thumping in his chest as his father looked shocked at the endearment. "Da," Ianto went on, "this is Jack Harkness. Jack, my father, Geraint Jones."

The two men shook hands, and Ianto felt a rush of pride that Jack was able to make the physical contact without flinching. He motioned for his father to sit in one of the armchairs, and went to pour fresh coffee for all of them.

"Ianto's mentioned you before," Geraint said in a conversational tone that belied the suspicion in his eyes. "You're his boss, aren't you? The Captain…?"

Jack glanced fleetingly at Ianto before nodding.

"Yeah. That's right. I'm his boss."

"No, that's not right," Ianto countered as he came back. His heart was pounding in triple time now, but he steeled himself for what was about to be said. In his own mind, he had one chance to get this right. He wasn't going to screw it up a second time.

Both men were staring at him now — his father in open confusion, and Jack with a mixture of curiosity, anticipation and… dare he think…? Hope…

Ianto walked over and, after setting down the tray of coffee, sat next to Jack and took hold of his hand.

"Jack is my boyfriend, Da."

It was as simple and plain as Ianto could make it, and he noted two very distinct reactions. Jack let his breath out in a rush, staring at Ianto with eyes that shone with unshed tears. The look on his face was nothing short of pure joy. Across from them, thought, Geraint looked pale and in shock; but not disgusted, Ianto thought with slim hope.

"You're gay," Geraint said finally.

"Bisexual, actually," Ianto replied, surprising himself with how calm he sounded. Geraint uttered a strangled noise.

"Is there a difference?"

Ianto conceded to him on that point.

"To you? Probably not."

Geraint reached automatically for one of the coffee mugs in front of him, and took a long swallow.

"How long?" he asked tensely, making a visible effort to stay calm. Ianto blinked, slightly confused.

"Do you mean how long have I known I was gay? Or how long I've been in a relationship with Jack?"

Geraint uttered that funny little strangled sound again.

"The… relationship."

"A while now," Ianto admitted. "But we've been dating seriously for three months now."

Geraint turned his hard stare onto Jack.

"What about you? How serious is this for you?"

Jack felt Ianto's grip tighten just fractionally on his hand, offering silent support. He breathed in long and deep, and when he spoke his voice was soft but sure.

"I love Ianto, Mr Jones. I'd do anything for him."

"Including walk away from him so that he doesn't have to suffer being disowned by his family?" Geraint asked flatly. Ianto blanched in horror and dismay.

"Da!"

Jack felt that awful clutch of fear and panic start to build again deep in his gut, and he tried to detach himself from Ianto's grip, intending to get up and leave. This, surely, was why Ianto had done what he did before Christmas, and Jack finally found himself understanding. After all, family was more important than anything, and of course he would choose his family first…

Except, Ianto refused to let him go, and instead pulled him back against the couch, holding him as tightly as he dared.

"You're not going anywhere, Jack," Ianto told him solemnly. And then, to his father, "Don't do this, Da. Don't force me to choose."

Far from being angry, Geraint looked sorrowful.

"You may not have a choice, son. Do you really think your mother could accept this? You know how much she wants you to settle down, get married and have a family of your own."

Ianto glanced fleetingly at Jack, who grimaced slightly. He could almost hear Jack's thoughts.

_Could still happen…_

And oh, they were so not getting into _that_ possibility now.

"Da, if I have to choose between my family and Jack, I will choose Jack. I love him, and I want to be with him, and if you can't accept that, then I'm sorry. But the door is right over there. You're welcome to use it."

Once the ultimatum had been laid down, Ianto fully expected his father to get up and walk out. To say that he was surprised when it didn't happen was a major understatement.

For his part, Geraint sighed and shook his head.

"Ianto, I'm disappointed in you. Do you really believe I'd turn my back on you, just because of what you do in your bedroom?"

Slowly, Ianto felt the enormous knot in his stomach start to loosen.

"I hoped you wouldn't… but what you said… to Jack… and everything about homosexuality in your church…"

"I'm sorry," Geraint apologised quietly, to Jack as well as to Ianto. "What I said was mostly the shock talking. I honestly did not mean it the way it came out. But you also need to be prepared for the reaction from the rest of the family. I won't say they'd reject you outright, but it's going to be a huge shock, and it will take them time to adjust. As for church, I won't deny we've been taught to believe that homosexuality is a sin, but that doesn't mean I can't accept you regardless."

"You… You're really okay with this?" Ianto asked tentatively, hardly daring to hope.

"I wouldn't say that," Geraint said. "Not quite yet, at least. But give me time, Ianto." His gaze went to Jack, and realisation dawned on his face.

"You're the one who was in hospital on Christmas Day, weren't you?"

Jack stiffened noticeably, but managed to nod and answer softly.

"Yes, sir."

Genuine concern filled Geraint's face.

"Are you all right? Ianto said you'd been badly assaulted."

Jack glanced at Ianto, aware that he would have still had all of his injuries from the attack at the time that that particular conversation would have taken place.

"Not yet," Jack admitted quietly. "But I'm getting there."

"Ianto also said you offered to work over Christmas so that he could spend Christmas with his family. That was very good of you."

Jack said nothing, and Ianto felt that knot start to tighten up once more. Time for one more painful confession…

"That's not how it happened, Da," he admitted. Geraint regarded Ianto critically, and the younger man suddenly had a distinct, sickening feeling that his father already knew the truth, and was just waiting for him to admit to it.

"Oh? What did happen, then?"

"I lied," he said miserably, uncomfortable under the scrutiny of both Jack and his father's gaze. "I lied to Jack… to you… to everyone. I was afraid of everyone finding out the truth, that Jack and I are together. So I told Jack that the plans had changed. And I told you that he couldn't come because he had to work. I lied to everyone, I hurt the man I love, and all for nothing! I'm sorry, I…"

He trailed off, breaking down into heavy sobs. Geraint was on his feet immediately, but Jack already had his arms around the young man, drawing him tentatively into his embrace.

"It's okay," Jack whispered, tears stinging his own eyes. "I forgive you. It's okay…"

"No, it isn't," Ianto sobbed. "It isn't okay. It's all my fault! If I hadn't done that to you, you wouldn't have gotten hurt. It is my fault, and I don't deserve to be forgiven!"

Jack shut his eyes as he held Ianto close. He wanted to refute Ianto's determination to blame himself, but he couldn't; because somewhere deep within his own fragile mind, he blamed Ianto as well. He forgave him, but that didn't erase the desire to lay blame.

"Is this true?" Geraint asked hoarsely, but Jack shook his head.

"Doesn't matter now."

And it didn't, as far as he was concerned. What was done was done, and it couldn't be changed. All they could do now was move forward, and try to get on with life. His face felt damp, and it took him a minute to realise that he, too, was crying now. Not exactly how he would have chosen to gain the approval of a lover's family, but who was he to ignore opportunity when it knocked? The sympathy card was as good a device as any, after all, and he'd used it many times before. The only difference this time was that he was not faking. His grief and pain was only too real.

A hand alighted on his shoulder as he held Ianto, and he looked around to find himself staring into Geraint's concerned features.

"Jack, what happened to you?"

And it came spilling out of Jack's mouth before he could stop himself.

"Christmas Eve, I was ambushed outside a pub. Six men…"

He couldn't get anymore than that out, but Ianto spoke for him, rubbing his eyes as he drew back a little from Jack.

"Jack was ambushed, Da. He was taken somewhere and assaulted, and he wasn't found until Christmas Day. He was nearly killed, Da."

Geraint stared at Jack, and they could see a multitude of thoughts and emotions running through him. Ianto didn't need to elaborate on the word 'assaulted'. It was clear that Geraint had rapidly realised the truth of what hadn't been said.

When he did finally speak, it was just two simple words, spoken with sincerity, sorrow and understanding.

"I'm sorry."

* * *

_to be continued..._


	16. Busted

Ianto recovered quickly from his own meltdown, and quietly excused both Jack and himself, ushering a visibly exhausted Jack th

Ianto recovered quickly from his own meltdown, and quietly excused both Jack and himself, ushering a visibly exhausted Jack through into the bedroom. When he emerged nearly fifteen minutes later, carefully pulling the door closed on the now sleeping Captain, he was surprised to find his father was still there, waiting patiently. He had fully expected his father to take the opportunity and leave, thus avoiding further discomfort between them.

"Will he be all right?" Geraint asked softly.

"I hope so, eventually," Ianto murmured. "But right now he really is a bad way."

"He was raped, wasn't he?"

Ianto froze for just a split second at the unexpected question. He knew, though, that he shouldn't have been surprised. His father was renowned for his attention to detail. It was just one of many things that had won him a reputation as a Master Tailor. Ianto scrubbed his hands over his face. He could feel a headache coming on.

"Yes," he admitted bleakly. "He was. And please don't say he deserved it…"

Geraint frowned, showing the first hints of anger.

"Damn it, Ianto, what do you think I am? Some sort of homophobic lout? I may not agree with same sex relations, but I would never wish harm on anyone because of it."

Ianto reddened again, and looked suitably chastened.

"I'm sorry, Da. I seem to be saying all of the wrong things at the moment."

"Just tell me one thing," Geraint said in a more subdued voice. "You said he was nearly killed… and I remember now that I saw those pictures on the News. But he doesn't have a mark on him!"

Ianto grimaced. _That_ was a question he really didn't need to be confronted with.

"It's… complicated."

_Understatement, and then some_, Ianto thought grimly. Geraint looked bemused, if anything.

"I imagine it must be. I suppose it falls under the whole Torchwood conspiracy thing, then?"

Ianto picked up on the irony in his father's tone, and couldn't help smiling a little.

"Something like that. I'm sorry, Da. I just can't explain it. Please don't ask me to try."

Geraint conceded without an argument.

"All right, I won't push. Just one more thing to accept, I suppose." He sighed softly. "So this is the path you've chosen for yourself. Working for the agency that killed your girlfriend, and dating your own boss?"

Ianto cringed at the unwanted reminder of Lisa, not to mention the less than subtle rebuke for his current choice of partner, and Geraint had the good grace to look apologetic.

"Sorry. That was unfair, I know. But like I said, this is going to take some getting used to."

"Thankyou for at least trying," Ianto said quietly.

"Mm. Well, I guess I'd better get going. Your mother and I are going to be having a very long talk tonight, I think."

"You're going to tell her?" Ianto asked, not sure whether he should be alarmed or not. Geraint smiled ruefully.

"Unless _you'd_ prefer to break the news yourself?"

Ianto winced again. That was one conversation he was grateful to be able to avoid.

"I suppose not," he murmured.

"I didn't think so. Ianto…"

"Yes, Da?"

Geraint looked towards the closed door of the bedroom.

"Look after him, Ianto. Whether this relationship goes anywhere or not, look after him. He needs someone to watch over him, if he's going to have any chance of surviving what was done to him."

"I know, Da," Ianto agreed.

"And… I'm not reneging on what I said in the hospital on Christmas Day, son. I want you to call if you need anything. Anything at all… for either one of you."

Overcome, Ianto stepped forward and hugged Geraint, quietly grateful when the embrace was returned unflinchingly, and with obvious affection.

"Thankyou, Da."

"Just do your best to take care of each other," Geraint murmured. He gently detached himself from Ianto, and was gone a minute later. Feeling almost light-headed with relief, Ianto headed back to join Jack in the bedroom. Even though it wasn't really even early evening, he suddenly felt absolutely bone-tired.

He stopped just inside the bedroom door. Jack lay on his side, curled up in a ball and sobbing softly in his sleep. Tears stung Ianto's eyes. It had only been five or ten minutes since he'd seen Jack off to sleep, and already he was being plagued by nightmares. He approached the bed, wondering how best to deal with the situation at hand, when Jack suddenly spoke out wretchedly.

"Please come back… Don't leave me here…"

Ianto's heart ached at the grief and despair in those simple words. He didn't understand what trauma they represented, but it most likely had nothing to do with the assault. That year on the Valiant, maybe…?

Jack moaned again, pulling Ianto out of his torpor.

"Come back, Doctor… Don't leave me… Please…"

Somehow, Ianto couldn't find it in himself to be surprised at that. Deciding enough was enough, Ianto climbed into bed behind Jack and slipped his arms around him, cuddling him protectively.

"I'm here, Jack," he whispered. "I'm right here. I've got you, cariad, and I'm not going anywhere."

Slowly, Jack responded to the loving touch and reassuring whisper. The tension bled from his body, and he settled into Ianto's embrace with a sigh. The sobs lessened, and finally stopped altogether as a deeper, dreamless sleep took over.

"I love you, cariad," Ianto whispered tearfully, resting his head lightly against Jack's shoulder. "Sleep well, anwylyd."

* * *

The next morning, Jack fleetingly seemed more like his old self, and Ianto was gratified to see his smile reach his eyes for the first time in a while. It hadn't lasted long, though, as Ianto had suspected might be the case.

Ianto's first moment of awareness that morning had come with the realisation that something was poking into his thigh. A glance beneath the sheets had confirmed his suspicions – Jack had a very prominent hard-on, and it was all Ianto could do to keep himself from instinctively reaching for it, as he had on so many other mornings.

Instead, he lightly stroked Jack's face until the older man's eyes fluttered open.

"Good morning," Ianto murmured, and was rewarded with a sleepy smile.

"Morning."

Jack started to move, but the movement drew his attention to the very thing that Ianto had been trying to avoid. The reaction was expected, but still startling – Jack went fire engine red, then white, and then he almost fell out of the bed in his panic.

"Jack..." Ianto called out anxiously, and then groaned when Jack fled into the bathroom. The distinct sound of him throwing up could be clearly heard.

He padded into the bathroom to find Jack hunched over the toilet bowl, his entire body trembling. Ianto knew better than to try and make physical contact right then, and so he instead went to the sink to dampen a cloth, and fill a cup with water.

Slowly, the retching eased off into dry heaves, and eventually finished altogether. Jack slid back and landed on his rear on the cold floor with a soft thud, rubbing miserably at his eyes.

"Here," Ianto murmured, handing the cloth to Jack. The Captain accepted it with a trembling hand and murmured thanks. Ianto waited patiently while Jack wiped his face, and a surreptitious glance down reassured him that the offending part of Jack's anatomy had completely subsided. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry, and was grateful that he had the strength to keep from doing either one.

The irony was enormous, though – and heartbreaking – that the infamous Captain Jack Harkness had lost his sex drive.

Ianto immediately corrected himself. That wasn't an accurate way of putting it, and it certainly was not an important issue right then, either.

"Think you can get up?" he asked lightly after helping Jack to rinse his mouth. "Come to the kitchen, and I'll make you a weak tea."

Jack grimaced as he got awkwardly to his feet with Ianto's help.

"Not coffee?"

"Not coffee," Ianto confirmed firmly, quietly wondering how he was able to stay strong when Jack used that plaintive tone of voice. "Not after youwere just sick."

Jack scowled at Ianto's back.

"That's just cruel."

Ianto smiled. It was a weak attempt at banter, but he was at least trying.

"Tea now," he said placatingly, "and perhaps coffee a bit later when your stomach has settled. Sit down, I'll bring it over."

Jack sank down onto the couch to wait and, while Ianto made tea and toast, he found himself steadily withdrawing into his own thoughts. It wasn't until he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder that he snapped out of it.

"All right?" Ianto asked in concern, and Jack nodded.

"Yeah. Sorry. Just zoned for a minute there."

"Care to share what you were thinking about?"

Jack paused in answering, taking a sip of tea. He was relieved to find that it wasn't too weak.

"I'm going to have to relive it, aren't I? Because I can't remember which pub I went to, we'll have to retrace my path physically."

"Possibly, yes," Ianto said. "But try not to worry about that yet. We'll get Toshiko to search the CCTV footage first, and see if we can't track the path you took."

Jack hesitated, staring at his cup of tea.

"You tried to call me on Christmas Eve," he mumbled. "After I left the Hub..."

"Yes, I did," Ianto confirmed.

"Why?"

Ianto swallowed a desire to avoid the question. If nothing else, he owed Jack honest answers.

"I got the gift that you left in my car. I wanted to tell you that I was sorry, and that I wanted you to come with me, but I was too late. You'd already left the Hub. I tried to call you, but at first you weren't answering. Then, you turned off your phone altogether."

"I thought you'd be angry at me," Jack admitted.

"What? Why?"

"Because of the stopwatch. I left it for you, but then I thought you wouldn't want it. I didn't want to answer a call from you, only to get yelled at."

"I wouldn't have yelled at you, cariad... but then again, I suppose I didn't exactly do anything to help you believe that, did I?"

"So..." Jack ventured tentatively, still not making eye contact. "Did you like it? The stopwatch, I mean."

Ianto grinned widely.

"Does this answer your question?"

He slipped a hand into his pocket and removed the item in question – now attached to the inside of his pocket by a fine silver chain.

"I love it, Jack."

A red flush crept over Jack's face, combined with more than a hint of relief and gratitude. Ianto smiled back, and returned his attention to preparing breakfast, so they could both get to the Hub as soon as possible.

* * *

Ianto held the door open for Jack to step through, and then turned back to lock up his apartment.

"Will you be all right if I drop you off by the lift? It should be early enough that there won't be anyone around. I just wouldn't put it past Detective Swanson to be waiting either in the tourist office or the garage. We really don't want her to see you."

"Too late."

It took a second for Jack's words to sink in, and when they did he spun around in shock. Sure enough, standing not five metres away from them, was Detective Kathy Swanson.

"Shit," Ianto burst out before he could help it. She spared him just a brief glance before returning her attention to Jack.

"When Andy Davidson told me he'd seen you, and that you didn't have a mark on you, I really didn't believe him. I thought it had to be some sort of trick. But here you are, large as life." She stepped towards him, but stopped when he backed away, a slight flare of panic in his eyes. Her expression softened. Regardless of whatever explanation they had for Jack's phsyical state, she could see clear as day that the emotional trauma remained. When she spoke to him, she took care to keep her voice calm and gentle – her stance non-confrontational.

"I'm guessing this is why your team was so determined to get you out of the hospital, and why they don't want us to investigate," she said quietly.

Jack looked at Ianto, at a loss for what to say, and Ianto bit back a sigh. Jack from before the assault wouldn't have hesitated. He would have taken the woman back into the apartment, told her everything, flirted outrageously and then retconned her without hesitation. This Jack didn't know whether he was coming or going, and it was a disturbing feeling.

Deciding to take charge, he opened his apartment again, and ushered both Jack and Kathy inside.

"Sit down," he told them. "I'll make fresh coffee, and let Owen know that we'll be a bit late."

Ten minutes later, they were sitting in much the same places as they had been the night before when Ianto's father arrived, and experiencing no less discomfort for the change of company.

"I know you didn't fake it. I know that. You may have managed to alter hospital records, and erase all hard evidence you were there, but I know what I saw."

Ianto half-expected Jack to answer back with his standard, patronising line, "And what did you see?". He didn't.

"You didn't imagine anything," he said soberly, firing a slightly sullen look at Ianto when he was handed another cup of tea. "And yes, this is the reason my team got me out of the hospital. To stop anyone from finding out about my... abilities."

"Which are...?"

"I can't die."

She stared at him in utter silence. Ianto could almost hear the gears turning in her mind as he tried to decide whether Jack was having her on, or just plain crazy. Finally, she looked at Ianto incredulously.

"Does he realise how insane he sounds?" she asked. Ianto regarded her seriously.

"Nevertheless, Detective, he is telling you the truth. Although, one minor point, Jack. You can die. You just don't stay dead."

Jack nodded.

"Right. Fair point." He looked back to Kathy. "I really hope I'm not going to have to demonstrate. Ianto hates having to clean up after my deaths."

"Just the particularly bloody ones, sir."

"You're certifiable," she muttered. Jack sighed, and stood up.

"Fine. Come into the kitchen, Kathy."

Ianto shot to his feet, protesting vehemently.

"Jack, no! Don't you dare!"

The Captain eyed him bemusedly.

"You don't even know what I'm planning to do."

"No, but I can guess, and if I have to buy a new kitchen knife just so you can prove your invincibility, I will be most annoyed."

Jack frowned.

"One little cut..."

"No!" Ianto insisted, his mind slipping back briefly to the day before when Jack had literally taunted a weevil into killing him. "No knives, no guns, no throwing yourself in front of cars, or off roofs. You are not to kill yourself purely for demonstrative purposes."

Jack was actually pouting, much to Ianto's incredulity. Kathy, however, shook her head and held her hands up defensively.

"Okay, all right! I believe you. I'll believe anything you want me to believe. Just... don't hurt yourself, all right, Jack?"

"She doesn't believe me," Jack complained to Ianto, who rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"There's a surprise. You couldn't just say you have accelerated healing, could you? No, you had to go the whole way and tell her you can't die! Of course she thinks we're both insane. But that is still no reason to offer a practical demonstration!"

Jack grunted.

"Fine. What now, then?"

"Might I suggest we head for the Hub?" Ianto suggested in a lighter tone. "We can all sit down together, then, and discuss the situation at hand. Detective Swanson included..."

Jack considered that for a moment before agreeing.

"Good idea, Ianto. Do me a favour and call Owen, let him know that we're coming in, and we're bringing a guest. And Kathy, care to visit our base again? I can give you a personal tour this time?"

He grinned as he spoke, and though there was nothing of his trademark leer in the offer, she could sense that he was at least trying to project an image of normalcy; and for him, normal was to try and flirt the pants off anything that moved.

It had to be so hard, she mused as she followed them out, to be so uncomfortable in his own body right then.

"You may as well come with us," Ianto told her as they walked. "I'll collected your car for you later."

She nodded, easily agreeing. There was no way she was letting these two out of her sight.

"If you don't mind me asking," he said slowly, "exactly how did you know to find us here in the first place?"

An almost embarrassed smile flickered across her lips.

"Well, as much as I'd love to say that it was the result of brilliant deductive skills, the truth is that one of your neighbours is a colleague of mine. He saw you both arrive last night, and called me. I'd been waiting outside your door for over two hours, to make sure I didn't miss you."

She fully expected them to be angry, and wasn't sure whether to be amused or confused when both men threw their heads back and laughed.

* * *

Despite that brief moment of good humour, conversation was sparse at best on the way to the Hub. Kathy sat in the back of Ianto's car, watching the interaction between the two men with interest. Few words were actually spoken, and much of their communication came by way of a look, or a subtle brushing of one hand against the other.

Ianto drove, and Kathy noticed the way that Jack avoided looking out – instead keeping his attention focused on the younger man. Whatever tensions had existed that she'd picked up on the last time that she'd seen Jack, they appeared to have been resolved.

Jack seemed to be placing a whole lot of trust in Ianto Jones, and Kathy only hoped that he was up to the challenge. She knew only too well the devastating effects of rape not only on the victim, but on those closest to the victim. It was not an easy road.

"Coming, Kathy?"

She started, realising that the car had come to a halt by the obelisk, and Jack was already out of his seat. She got out quickly, and watched as Ianto drove off.

"Let me guess," she said dryly. "You have a top secret garage to go with the base."

Jack chuckled softly.

"Something like that. So tell me, how did they bring in the last time?"

"Fancy elevator," she said blandly, and Jack pouted.

"Trust Owen to spoil my fun. Oh well, never mind. Maybe I'll take you up to up to the pterodactyl's nest, and introduce you to Myfanwy."

She snorted disbelievingly.

"You don't really have a pterodactyl."

He only smirked as she stepped onto the pavement beside him, and the lift began to descend. They were halfway down when a familiar cry split the air, and Myfanwy's dark shape glided overhead. Kathy gaped in shock, eliciting a genuine laugh from Jack.

"Still so sure, Kathy?"

"You prat."

He laughed agin, and she couldn't help but take quiet pleasure in the sound.

At the bottom, Owen, Gwen and Tosh were waiting, each of them wearing identical looks of suspicion.

"Dectective Swanson is going to be working with us," Jack informed them in a tone that warned against argument. "Go and wait in the conference room. Ianto and I will be there soon."

Owen fired a sharp look at Kathy as they headed for the conference room.

"You're persistent. I'll give you that much."

She smiled coolly, determined not to let the medic intimidate her.

"I wouldn't be a DI if I wasn't, Dr Harper"

"If you don't mind me asking," Gwen ventured, "how exactly did you convince Jack to bring you here?"

"That might have something to do with me waiting outside Mr Jones' apartment for over two hours," she said calmly. "I was there when they came out, and they couldn't exactly avoid me. And I still don't understand how he was able to heal so fast when he had injuries which, by rights, should have crippled him, but for the record, I don't believe that rubbish about not being able to die."

"He told you that, did he?" Owen queried.

"Yes, he did, and I still haven't decided whether he's out of his mind."

The medic snorted.

"Well, of course it's rubbish. He can die. He just doesn't stay dead."

Kathy stared at him darkly.

"I've had just about enough of this. Jones said exactly the same thing."

"Maybe because it's true?" Toshiko suggested quietly. Kathy scowled.

"You're all out of your minds."

"Don't you worry, Detective," Owen said with a smirk. "Hang around here long enough, and you'll be ready to join us on the funny farm."

* * *

Ianto found Jack in his office, sitting hunched in his chair. The greatcoat was once more wrapped tightly around his body, like a protective shell, while his fingertips massaged his temples.

"I just spoke to Tish," he said quietly as he stepped into the office. "She'll be here in twenty minutes."

Jack grunted, not looking up. Slowly, Ianto ventured further into the room.

"Jack, what is it?"

Finally, the Captain looked up. His eyes were red with unshed tears.

"I don't know if I can do this, Ianto. There's a really big part of me right now that's screaming out to forget all about it, retcon Kathy and just get on with business."

"Well, it's ultimately your decision, of course," Ianto conceded carefully. "But you need to be certain that you make a decision that won't haunt you later on."

Jack's face crumpled with misery, and Ianto wanted to kick himself all over again.

"You mean, can I live with this happening to anyone else," he said hoarsely. Ianto said nothing, watching Jack silently. Jack uttered a soft, miserable sob and pressed his face back into his hands.

"It's not fair," he said in a muffled voice. "How did I come to be responsible for everyone else? Even when something like this happens to me, I still have to think about everyone else ahead of me. When will I get to put myself first for once?"

His voice broke and he began to cry softly into his hands.

"Cariad," Ianto whispered, his own heart aching in response to Jack's pain. He walked over and sat down on the edge of the desk, reaching out to draw Jack in against him. The Captain resisted briefly before his resistance crumbled, and he slumped heavily against Ianto.

"Listen to me, Jack," Ianto said as he held him lovingly. "This isn't just about potential future victims. It's about justice and peace of mind for you. I was watching you when we were driving here. You didn't look outside once, and I think you would have just about crawled under the dashboard if you could have. Tell me, love, what were you afraid of?"

Jack's breath hitched in his throat. He spoke, but it was barely audible.

"Them…"

Ianto didn't need to ask him to elaborate. He knew damn well who Jack meant. He teased his fingers lightly through Jack's hair, knowing the sensation tended to calm him.

"Unless I'm mistaken, you're a little bit mad at yourself for being afraid of them, aren't you?"

Jack uttered something unintelligible. Ianto went on quietly, all the time praying he wasn't overstepping some invisible boundary.

"Tell me something, Jack. How do you feel when you think of the Master?"

Jack stiffened against him, and then abruptly pulled back.

"What the hell sort of question is that?"

"Just bear with me, Jack. Please…"

Jack let his breath out in an aggravated rush. He didn't know where this was going, but at the same time he trusted Ianto not to raise such a sensitive subject without good reason. Trying to gather his wits, he forced himself to answer.

"Angry," he admitted. "Bitter… and relieved, too, I guess."

"But not afraid?"

"Well, no. He's dead…"

And suddenly, Jack realised what Ianto had been hinting at.

"I'm afraid because they're still out there," he said softly. "They're still a threat… To me as well as others."

"You're a brave, strong man, Jack, but in the end you are still only human. Immortal or not, those men hurt you terribly. You don't have to pretend like it hasn't affected you."

Tears filled Jack's eyes.

"I hate feeling like this," he choked out. "I hate it, Ianto."

"I know, cariad," Ianto murmured. "I know you do. But don't forget that you're not alone. I'm here, and so is Owen. So are Gwen, Toshiko and Tish… And even Detective Swanson. We're all here for you. Even… Even my father."

Jack looked up at Ianto, startled.

"Your father?"

"That's right. He told me to call him if we needed anything. He said it for the both of us, Jack."

"I thought he didn't approve."

"He doesn't, but he made it pretty clear that he won't turn his back on us, either. I really am a fool, Jack. I utterly underestimated my Da. I was sure he'd condemn me. I never expected the support he's offering us."

"He's a good man," Jack murmured, wiping a hand across his eyes. "You're lucky to have a father like him."

Something in Jack's tone caught his attention, and he rubbed the other man's shoulder gently.

"Your father wasn't like that?"

"My father was my hero," Jack admitted sadly. "I loved him so much, but he was killed in an invasion when I was thirteen. I don't think I ever really got over that loss."

"I'm so sorry, Jack," Ianto murmured. "That is way too soon to lose a parent."

"It was a long time ago," Jack said in an attempt to sound dismissive, but his tone suggested to Ianto that perhaps the past wasn't as far removed as Jack might like him to believe. Now was not the time to pursue it, though. Now, they had another issue to deal with – catching the sick bastards who had hurt their beloved Captain.

"They're waiting, cariad. Let's go and work out what to do together."

Jack conceded, and got wearily to his feet.

"Okay."

* * *

_tbc..._


	17. A Plan of Action

"All right," Owen said once Jack and Ianto were seated. "We need to agree on exactly what we're going to do before we get into the 'how'. Detective Swanson, just to update you, Jack has agreed to us finding the men who attacked him."

Kathy looked thoughtfully at Jack before speaking.

"And what happens when we find them? Because I get the feeling that I won't be arresting them."

"No," Jack confirmed. "It can never go to court. There'd be too many questions asked about me that I can't answer."

"So what's going to happen, then?" she asked, not quite able to keep the contempt out of her voice. "Tell me what substitutes for justice in Torchwood."

All eyes turned automatically to Jack, who leaned forward a little across the table, producing a small bottle of retcon, which he put down firmly on the table in front of him. Across from him, Ianto started in shock, wondering just how long Jack had been carrying that bottle for. He's deliberately gone through all of Jack's pockets the night of Jack's rather spectacular attempt at suicide by weevil, anxious to make sure that Jack didn't follow through on the unsavoury idea of ret-conning himself.

Apparently, he mused grimly, it had been a wasted effort, and his only consolation was that Jack obviously hadn't gone to those extremes so far.

"This is retcon, Kathy," Jack explained. "This is the strongest version we have. Most retcon will only take a few hours from your memory. A few days at the most. This stuff? It'll wipe your memory all the way back to infancy. Needless to say, we use it very, _very_ sparingly."

"And that's what you plan to do to whoever attacked you," she said flatly. Jack sat back, leaving the retcon displayed on the table.

"Yep."

"My god," she muttered harshly. "You people really do have a God complex."

"You asked," Owen retorted. Jack stared at her hard.

"Those men assaulted me and left me for dead. I should have every right to kill each and every one of them, and don't think I wouldn't do it, either. But we're not proposing wholesale slaughter, because that isn't how we operate. Instead, we're going to take their memories, scatter them around the country, and give them new lives where they won't ever be able to hurt anyone again. Personally, I think they're getting a pretty good deal."

Kathy blinked in astonishment, taken aback by the sudden ferocity Jack was displaying.

"Jack..."

"Don't," Jack growled, his voice low and threatening. "If you're just going to lecture me about their rights, then don't bother."

Kathy drew in a long breath, willing herself to stay calm. She had gotten herself into this. It was up to her to try and control the situation as best as she could.

"Jack, I understand that you're angry, and you're hurting. They stole your dignity, your confidence, your security... They stole your life. You want payback. I get that. But this is not the way to do it."

"Well, what's your brilliant suggestion, then?" Owen asked tersely. Kathy looked around at them, uncomfortable with the scrutiny that was suddenly being directed towards her. Jack was looking almost smug as he sat back in his seat, arms folded imposingly across his chest.

"Let me arrest them when we find them," she pleaded. "It probably won't even get as far as court. I can promise you they'll be locked away for a _very_ long time..."

"No, not good enough," Jack said. "This can't be dealt with publicly."

"Why?" she demanded. "Because you can't die?"

Try as she might, she couldn't keep the scepticism out of her voice. Jack glared at her.

"Forget about that for the moment. You don't believe me? Fine. But think about this. What happens if we follow your due process? We find them, you arrest them. I have to identify them in order for the prosecution to proceed. And there's problem number one, right there. Any half-way decent defence lawyer will take one look at me and start shouting for a dismissal of charges on the spot, because you can't explain why I don't have a mark on me."

Kathy felt like she'd just had the wind sucked out of her lungs. He was right. Of course he was right. She couldn't begin to explain any of this, and the truth was, she didn't really care to try. Jack spoke again in a more subdued tone.

"This is why we operate outside all of the usual boundaries, Kathy. Because of what can't be explained."

She felt defeated. Little though she liked it, she knew he was right. A sigh escaped her lips. Her superintendent was going to kill her.

"We have a witness," she said quietly. Startled silence met the admission.

"Who?" Gwen asked, incredulous.

"A young boy. He was at the Bute Park estate when the men arrived with you, Jack. He saw them assault you with a stun gun, and he watched them strip you, take you inside and tie you to the bed."

She watched him carefully as she spoke, noting the way he cringed just slightly.

"We need to talk to him," Jack said, not quite able to make eye contact with Kathy. "As soon as possible,"

"Please tell me _you're_ not planning to talk to him?" she asked anxiously. "No offence, Jack, but you'll scare the hell out of him."

Jack shook his head.

"No, not me. Gwen can talk to him."

Kathy nodded, satisfied with that.

"Okay, then. What now?" she asked, feeling slightly perturbed at how quickly she'd bowed to Torchwood. Owen looked pointedly at Tosh, who grimaced a little. This was where it began to get a little discomforting. What she had to explain was nothing different to any previous Torchwood investigation, but never before had it so directly involved one of their own.

"I studied the CCTV footage from Christmas Eve," she said, "and I was able to track your path from the Hub, Jack. It wasn't easy, mind you. You drove around in circles for nearly an hour before you stopped outside a pub called the Griffin Arms."

Kathy looked away from the may Tosh had produced onscreen to highlight Jack's route, to where Jack sat, looking on expressionlessly.

"Jack?" she asked quietly. "Do you remember that place?"

"Yeah," he admitted hoarsely. "I remember thinking it was as good a place as any to drown my sorrows."

She could hear the self-recrimination in his voice as clearly as if he'd actually said the words out loud.

"Jack," Kathy said, "you couldn't have known what you were walking into."

Gwen was quick to agree.

"She's right, Jack. You're not omniscient, and you had every right to go wherever you wanted for a drink."

Jack swung away from them rather abruptly to study the screen with overly keen interest.

"It doesn't help," he said in a quiet, strained voice.

"All right," Ianto said quickly, sensing that Jack needed the discussion to move forward. "We know where Jack went. We need to identify the ones involved without placing Jack in danger again."

"Without putting anyone in danger," Jack added tensely. Owen nodded.

"No need for Jack to go anywhere near that place. "Gwen and I can go in posing as a couple and stake the place out. We should come under their radar..."

"We'll need to mix it up," Gwen said. "They may not be there the first time we go in, and it's going to look suspicious if we're turning up there every single night."

"You could take it in turns with Tosh and I," Ianto suggested. "Or, alternatively, we could all go as a group. Safety in numbers, right?"

"No!" Jack burst out suddenly with a blatant tone of panic in his voice, and though he was talking to all of them, it quickly became obvious that his focus was primarily on Owen and Ianto. "You can't go in there. None of you can. They'll target you, just like they targeted me. No one is to go into that place, not for any reason!"

"Jack," Gwen said gently, "listen to me, sweetheart. No one's going to be in any danger, I promise you. Especially if we go in pairs, or in a group. It'll be all right..."

Jack, however, was already starting to move towards a panic attack. They could all see it clearly in his face and in his posture. Anxious to avoid the oncoming attack, Owen spoke up quickly and decisively.

"Okay, forget us going in during pub hours. We'll go in there after hours, when there's no one there. We can set up some of our own spy cams around the place, and monitor the feed from here in the Hub. That way, Jack can safely identify the men who attacked him. Once we've gotten that far, then we can decide exactly how to deal with them. Because personally, as nice a thought as it is to retcon them, I'd rather just take the bastards one by one and throw them into the cell with Janet."

"And give her indigestion?" Ianto snorted, quietly cheering at the tiny smile his words elicite from Jack. "No, thankyou. Not when I'm the one who has to clean her cell."

"Sorry, who's Janet?" Kathy asked and Jack grinned at her, though it didn't reach his eyes and ended up looking more like a sneer.

"I'll introduce you later. Right now, let's get the equipment sorted out for this operation."

* * *

"Is he okay?"

Kathy barely kept herself from jumping in fright at the sound of Jack's voice in her ear. She turned to look at him and decided after a moment's consideration that, unlike Owen a few days ago, Jack hadn't actually intended to scare her. She suddenly realised he was staring, and that she had yet to respond to his question. It was a moment later that she realised she didn't actually know what he was talking about.

"Sorry, what? Is who okay?"

"The kid," Jack said quietly. "Your witness. Is he okay? After seeing what he saw..."

"Oh. He's okay. Pretty badly shaken up, but I think he's feeling worse that he didn't get help for you when he saw it happen."

Jack was silent for nearly a minute before speaking again.

"Why didn't he?"

Again, Kathy eyed him critically. Jack's tone was calm, almost pleasant. It was deceptive, though. She could clearly sense the anger and hurt that simmered beneath the surface.

"He panicked, Jack," she told him gently. "He's a little boy who got scared and panicked. His parents admitted that he tried to tell them, but they were too angry at him for being out late on Christmas Eve to listen. Don't be angry with him, please."

Jack looked at her, genuinely surprised.

"Angry at...? No, I'm not angry at him. I'm angry because his is another life that's been damaged by those bastards. I know how hard it can be to cope when you see something horrific. I just hope that kid ran away before he saw something that he couldn't live with."

Kathy couldn't hide her astonishment. She had fully expected anger from Jack, but not on behalf of the boy.

"You amaze me, Jack Harkness," she said. "I always took you to be an ego-centric bastard, but even when you have every right to be completely self-oriented, you still manage to find it in yourself to think of others."

"Yeah," Jack said bleakly as he walked away from her. "I do, don't I?"

* * *

Tish arrived a short while later, in time to be briefed on what was happening before Gwen, Owen and Kathy Swanson headed out to set up their surveillance equipment inside the pub. Toshiko remained behind to ensure the cameras were all working as they should be, while Ianto gravitated to the coffee machine to make the coffee that he'd earlier promised Jack.

Already feeling exhausted by the morning's proceedings, and thoroughly hating it, Jack retreated to the couch, where he could keep an eye on the happenings within the Hub. After a moment's consideration, Tish joined him on the couch, while at the same time taking care to keep some space between them.

"You're not going to ask me how I am, are you?" he asked softly, a slight edge to his voice. Tish smiled sadly.

"No. I'm not an idiot, and that's an idiot's question. No, there's something else I wanted to ask, Jack. Why don't you want me to call Martha?"

He was silent for so long that she thought he wasn't going to answer her. When he did speak, it was in a near whisper that she had to strain to hear.

"She can contact _him_, can't she?"

"The Doctor, you mean?" Tish wondered. "Well, yes. She said she left that superphone of hers with him, so that she can call him if she needs to. Why?"

Jack said nothing, looking away from her. Tish was no fool, though, and her jaw dropped as she realised what was going on.

"You don't want her to tell the Doctor," she whispered. "Jack, why on earth not?"

"If she told him, he'd probably come," Jack muttered, and Tish humphed loudly.

"I should hope so!" she retorted. Jack stared down at his hands, acutely aware that he was ringing them incessantly again, and was completely unable to stop.

"If he came, I'd have to ask him... and I'm not sure that I want to know the answer."

"Ask him what?" Tish pressed, although she was starting to feel a cold lump form deep in the pit of her stomach. She could almost feel Jack trembling beside her, even though there was no physical contact between them.

"Why didn't he come to help me? Where was he, when I was in that room... tied to that bed... when they... again and again..."

His voice broke, and a miserable sob escaped him. Tish felt her own eyes filled with tears, and she risked reaching across to cover his hands with her own.

"Oh, Jack... He couldn't have known you were in trouble. I'm sure he would have tried to help if he had known. You mean too much to him for him to ignore you like that."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Jack muttered with fresh bitterness. "You know, I waited for him for nearly a hundred and thirty years? And when I finally found him again, he admitted that he'd deliberately abandoned me, and called me wrong!" He took in the shocked expression on her face, and laughed bitterly. "The Master called me 'freak', and even though he never said it out loud, I know the Doctor agreed with him."

"Jack..." Tish started to argue, but Jack went on like the floodgates had suddenly been opened.

"And now, I'm even more than that. I'm not just wrong anymore. I'm damaged. Damaged goods. That's the right term, isn't it? No wonder the Doctor stayed away." He uttered a choked laugh, tears starting to fill his eyes. "Now I'm wrong in_ every_ way. You might as well go ahead and tell Martha, Tish. Let her call the Doctor. He wouldn't want to be anywhere near me, now, and I can't say I blame him, either."

"Jack Harkness, you stop that right now!" Tish burst out.

Across the way, both Tosh and Ianto looked up in astonishment at Tish's outburst. Oblivious to her new audience, Tish went on fiercely, once she was sure she had Jack's attention.

"I know you're hurting badly right now, Jack, and I don't blame you for wanting to lash out, but if you really believe that that's what the Doctor thinks of you, then you don't know him quite as well as you think you do. He loves you, Jack, and it nearly destroyed him, knowing what the Master was doing to you on the Valiant. And I don't know how many times he told me and Mum that we had you to thank for Martha escaping, that you gave up your chance of getting away so that Martha could escape. He was so proud of you for that, Jack. You mean the world to him, and don't you dare think any different."

"Then where was he?" Jack exploded, his voice wrought with grief and anger. "Why didn't he come? Why did he save me for once?"

Tears filled Tish's eyes and rolled down her cheeks in enormous drops.

"I don't know, Jack. I'm sorry, I just don't know."

"No," Jack said in a guttural tone. "I don't either."

Getting up, he strode away, heading for a corridor on the far side of the Hub.

"Tish?"

She looked up to see Ianto approaching.

"I'm sorry," she said miserably. "I keep saying the wrong things. I didn't mean to upset him, but he seemed so sure that the Doctor doesn't care about him. I wanted to make him understand that it's not true!"

"That may be, Tish," Ianto said gently, "but right now it's hard for Jack to accept that anyone really cares about him... even us. It would be doubly hard for him to accept that about someone who isn't even here to tell him otherwise."

"But he said he doesn't want me to tell Martha, because she'd tell the Doctor," Tish said. "You know, I'm not sure what he's really afraid of? That the Doctor will come... or that he _won't_ come."

"Either way, it'd be painful for Jack," Ianto said gently. "I know you mean well, Tish, but perhaps for now you shouldn't call your sister. Just for now."

Tish sighed and nodded, although she didn't appear convinced.

"Are you going after him?" she asked almost timidly.

"Not quite yet," he answered. "I think he needs a little privacy, just for a while. God knows he's had little enough of it since the attack."

"And the men who did it... Are you really going to wipe their memories?"

Ianto raised an eyebrow slightly.

"You have moral issues with that as well?"

"Well, no... Not exactly..."

"It's our way of dealing with this," Ianto told her. "And believe me, it's a far milder option than some of the other possibilities we could have turned to."

"I suppose so," Tish conceded softly. She glanced around sadly. "Jack talked a lot about this place while we were on the Valiant. It isn't quite how I imagined it to be."

Ianto smiled as he turned to walk away.

"Few things are."

Tish watched him go, waiting until he was almost out of sight before standing up.

"I think I'm going to head up and get some fresh air," she said, trying to keep her tone as casual as possible. Tosh nodded distractedly, her focus almost entirely on tuning the monitors that would display the feed from the cameras Gwen, Owen and Kathy were currently hiding in strategic locations around the pub.

Hoping and praying that she was doing the right thing, Tish checked that her mobile phone was in her pocket before heading out of the Hub.

* * *

_London_

Martha couldn't help groaning at the sound of her mobile phone ringing, and she dragged a pillow over her head in protest. Beside her in their large bed, her fiance Tom Milligan grinned down at her in amusement.

"You've got two choices, Martha. You can either answer it now, and tell whoever it is to go away, or you can ignore it..."

"I'll take that one," she said in a muffled voice. Tom chuckled and snatched the pillow from off her head.

"Or, you can ignore it, and whoever it is will just try again later... Probably at a much less opportune time."

To emphasize his point, he leaned down and ghosted a kiss over her bare shoulder. She glared up at him in mock irritation.

"You, Mr Milligan, are a pain in the arse."

"And yet here you are in bed with me."

"We're supposed to be having a day off!" she argued, but Tom silenced her with a tender kiss.

"Answer the damn phone, Martha. And tell whoever it is to bugger off."

Laughing, Martha snatched up the phone and answered the call.

"Whoever this is, it had better be good."

There was a brief pause on the other end of the phone before a familiar voice spoke.

"_I'm sorry, Martha... I didn't want to bother you..._"

"Oh god, Tish!" Martha burst out. "Sorry, sweetie. I thought it was someone from work."

"_Look, if you can't talk, it's okay. I can call back later..._"

"No, it's fine," Martha insisted after getting a nod and a smile from Tom. "I can talk. What's happening, Tish?"

"Well, I'm actually in Cardiff right now."

Martha couldn't contain her surprise.

"Cardiff? What on earth are you doing in Cardiff?"

Tish smiled sadly. Martha had to be extremely distracted if he had to ask.

"_Just visiting a mutual friend_._"_

And the penny dropped.

"You went to see Jack! Oh my god, how is he? Still flirting with everything that breathes? Tell him I promise I'll come and visit him as soon as I have a chance, and... oh, never mind. Is he there? Can I talk to him?"

"_He, um... He's not here with me at the moment, Martha. But I can let him know..._"

Martha frowned, hearing the slight hitch in her sister's voice.

"Tish, what is it? What's wrong?"

On the other end of the line, Tish froze. Here was the moment of truth. If she told Martha, she would be going against Jack's wishes... but it was for the best, wasn't it? As soon as the Doctor came, Jack would be able to see how much he meant to the Time Lord, and he might finally be able to start recovering. Wouldn't he...?

"Tish?" Martha pressed, starting to feel the first twinges of fear. "What's going on?"

"_Nothing_," Tish said suddenly, at the same time wondering what on earth was going on inside her own head. "_Nothing's wrong. I just called to say hi. Um... Jack said to say hello, too._"

Martha was frowning darkly by now.

"That's it? That's why you called? To say hello?"

"_What? I can't call my own sister?_"

"Of course you can," Martha assured her. "It just seemed a little... strange, is all. You sure you're all right?"

"_I'm fine, really. Um... You haven't heard from the Doctor, have you?_"

The alarm bells began ringing in Martha's mind even stronger than before.

"No, I haven't," she said, perhaps a little more sharply than intended. "Why do you want to know?"

"_It's not for me,_" Tish insisted. "_I was just thinking... next time you talk to him, maybe you could suggest he stop off in Cardiff... You know, come and visit Jack. I think that might be a really good idea._"

"Tish..."

"_Sorry, Martha. I've got to go. Bye._"

And then the signal was gone. Martha stared at her phone in puzzled silence until Tom nudged her gently.

"Problem?"

"I don't know," Martha admitted softly. "But I've got a horrible feeling all of a sudden."

"Try not to worry," Tom murmured as he began to press kiss after kiss on Martha's warm skin. "If something was really wrong, she would've have said."

Martha sighed.

"I suppose so."

"Mm. I know so."

A smile grew on Martha's face as Tom grew more digilent in his exploration, and before long all thoughts of her sister, Cardiff and Jack Harkness were as far from her mind as they could possibly be.

* * *

_tbc..._


	18. Truth & Comfort

A/N: _My apologies for the delay in updates - I have been fairly seriously ill for the last three weeks. Finally starting to recover now, and hopefully I'll be more prompt with the updates. This one isn't as long as I'd hoped it would be, but hopefully it won't be long before I have more to post._

* * *

Ianto gave Jack nearly an hour before giving in to his concerns and going to look for him

Ianto gave Jack nearly an hour before giving in to his concerns and going to look for him. It wasn't hard to do, even without resorting to the Hub's CCTV network. Jack had retreated once more to that little room where he had lain in agony while recovering from the attack, and it was in there that Ianto found him – curled up on the bed and, by all appearances, asleep.

Except, he wasn't sleeping. Ianto could tell by the way that Jack's breath hitched a little every several seconds, and in the way that he was curling in on himself and tightening his body into as tiny a ball as possible – a remarkable feat, even for the likes of Jack.

"Cariad," he called softly, wanting to make sure that Jack was aware of his presence before he ventured any closer.

"I hate this," Jack whispered without opening his eyes. "I want to be over this, Ianto."

Ianto sat down carefully on the edge of the bed, and stroked his fingertips lovingly along Jack's hairline.

"Perhaps when we've found the men who hurt you, and dealt with them, do you think you might be able to find some peace of mind then?"

Jack looked up at Ianto through half-closed eyes in what proved to be a pointless attempt at shielding his vulnerability.

"It's not just that. I can't even start to explain it. It just… Everything hurts, and I don't know how to stop hurting!"

"You need the Doctor," Ianto said softly, feeling a painful twinge of sadness that was mixed with understanding and resignation. To his surprise, though, Jack reached up and closed a hand over his own, and held on tightly.

"No. I need you. I don't want to see him, Ianto. I don't want to hear what excuses he has this time for abandoning me. It hurt enough the last time."

Ianto's breath caught as he read the underlying meaning in Jack's words.

"You think he knew, don't you? You think that he knew you were in trouble, and that he stayed away on purpose."

"I don't want to believe it. I want to believe Tish. I want to believe that he'd come running if he knew I was in trouble."

"But you don't," Ianto whispered in growing dismay.

"He's a Time Lord, Ianto. He can see all of time. I don't want to see him, because I'm afraid that he'll tell me I'm wrong again, and that's the reason he didn't come."

Several thoughts crashed through Ianto's mind all at once, and he struggled to put them into some cohesive order.

_Wrong...? Again...?_

"Jack, I don't understand. Please, cariad, talk to me."

After a long silence, Jack shuffled back across the bed.

"Lay down with me?"

Ianto needed no further invitation. He slipped his jacket and tie off, toed off his shoes and lay down beside Jack on the bed. Slowly, Jack curled in against him, tentative and yet with absolute trust. Ianto slipped his arms around Jack, and held him gently.

"Now tell me what this is about, anwylyd."

"I guess I need to tell you the whole story," Jack whispered. "It started in the year Two Hundred-One Hundred... back before I became immortal."

Ianto felt a quiet thrill. Jack was notoriously hard to get any sort of personal details out of, so this promised to be one hell of a story.

Jack told it quietly, uninterrupted by Ianto except for a noticeable tension when he talked about his extermination by a dalek.

"That was the time you were really dead," he murmured, and Jack nodded.

"Yes. I was dead and gone, and then Rose brought me back."

"Rose?" Ianto queried in surprise.

"The Doctor sent her home, but she didn't like that, I guess. He told me she opened up the heart of the TARDIS and absorbed the time vortex. Made herself a goddess. She destroyed the daleks, and brought me back to life... except, she couldn't control what she had, and gave me immortality through the vortex. To this day, I don't think he ever told her the truth about what happened on the game-station."

"So, what happened when you came back that first time?"

"I was confused," Jack admitted. "Aching all over... I remember thinking that the dalek ray must have only grazed me. Didn't occur to me until years later... in 1892, specifically... that maybe the dalek hadn't missed at all. I was surrounded by ash, the daleks were gone and I was still trying to understand what had happened when I heard it."

"Heard what?"

"The TARDIS. I ran for it, and I was just in time to see it disappear."

Ianto felt a sickening clutch deep in his gut, and suddenly the words that Jack had moaned in his sleep, begging the Doctor not to leave him, began to make sense.

"He left you there," Ianto whispered, and Jack nodded, his grip tightening just fractionally on Ianto.

"Alone on a derelict satellite, surrounded by dalek dust and corpses. I thought it was a mistake, that he'd come back for me... but he never did."

"How long did you wait?" Ianto asked, feeling increasingly unsettled. When he got no response, Ianto tried again. "Jack, how long did you wait for him on that satellite?"

"It was hard to keep track," Jack mumbled. "Linear time didn't mean much, but I guess it equated to around three weeks."

"Why did you wait for so long?" Ianto wondered. Jack shrugged a little.

"I didn't want to believe he'd leave me behind like that. It took three weeks for me to quit kidding myself."

"Cariad," Ianto murmured in sympathy.

"He thought I'd died," Jack went on. His voice was little more than a whisper as he tried to conceal the tremulous and bitter tone. "That's what I kept telling myself. That he didn't know I was alive. All the time I spent on Earth, waiting for him, I kept trying to convince myself of that. And then I found him again, and I learnt the truth."

"What was the truth?" Ianto asked softly.

Fresh tears fell from Jack's eyes, which he angrily wiped away. He thought that he'd resolved this, and yet the hurt was as deep and as fresh as ever.

"He knew I was alive. He knew from the second Rose brought me back, and one of the reasons he left when he did was specifically to get away from me. He left me behind on purpose, Ianto."

Ianto felt sick to his stomach.

"Why? Did he explain himself to you?"

"Oh yeah, and I wish he hadn't." Jack pulled back from Ianto a little to stare at him miserably. "He ran away from because I'm wrong… and those are his words, not mine. He said it hurt him even to look at me, that I'm a fixed point in time and that I shouldn't exist. Not exactly his words there, but that's pretty much what he meant." Jack's breath hitched in his chest. "You were right. In the end, you were right. I am a monster."

Ianto tightened his hold on Jack and pulled him into a fiercely protective cuddle. Jack surrendered to his lover's embrace gratefully, taking no small amount of comfort from it.

"No, cariad," Ianto whispered. "I was wrong. You aren't a monster, or a freak, and you definitely are not wrong. He had no right to say that to you, Jack."

"Even if it's true?"

"No, I don't believe that," Ianto murmured as he cuddled his weeping lover to him. "I won't accept that. You are not wrong, not to me, not at all."

"There is one good thing that came from him leaving me behind," Jack said softly.

"What's that?"

"It brought me to you."

"Anwylyd," Ianto whispered, ghosting a kiss over the top of Jack's head. "It's me who doesn't deserve you, not the other way around."

"Please don't let go," Jack begged.

"Never," Ianto promised.

* * *

Ianto remained there long after Jack had slipped into a restless sleep, determined that when Jack woke again, it would be in the comfort and protection of his lover's arms. He was still there when the door opened and Toshiko ventured in. He watched her awkwardly over his shoulder, but made no attempt to disengage himself from Jack.

As she walked in, though, Ianto realised with shock that she had been crying.

"Tosh?" he asked softly, not wanting to wake Jack. "What's wrong?"

She halted by the wall and reach up to push a button on the intercom. A single green light that Ianto had not previously noticed blinked out.

"The intercom has been on all this time," she told him in a whisper. "We overheard everything."

Ianto felt the clutch of trepidation for Jack. What he had shared earlier had been highly personal, and he doubted that the Captain had wanted everyone to know about it. Still, he supposed bleakly, too late now.

"And…?"

"Well, for starters, I think poor Tish is in shock. I don't think she had any idea. Owen's on the warpath, and Gwen is furious…"

"What about you?" Ianto asked. Tosh sat down carefully on the edge of the bed.

"I don't understand. How could he do that to Jack? And then to turn around and call him wrong! Doesn't he know about all the good things Jack has done?"

"I don't know," Ianto whispered, quietly wondering exactly the same thing. Tosh peered over Ianto's shoulder to look at Jack, who was curled in against Ianto and clinging to the younger man in his sleep. Soft whimpers and an occasional sob escaped Jack's lips, and his trembling hands unconsciously clutched Ianto closer to him.

"When I first met Jack," Tosh murmured sadly, "I would never have imagined that he could ever be this vulnerable."

"Same," Ianto admitted, indulging himself in gently stroking his hand over Jack's sweat-dampened hair. Tosh stood up again, and patted Ianto's shoulder.

"We've got the video feed from the pub up and running, but it'll probably be a good few hours before anyone actually shows up there, so don't disturb him just yet."

"I hadn't intended to," Ianto told her. "We'll come back up together when he's awake again."

Tosh managed a small smile in acknowledgement before quietly retreating from the room, leaving them in peace. Ianto listened for the sound of the door closing before returning his attention to Jack. He could understand now why Jack didn't want the Doctor to come and after hearing that story, he hoped even more strongly that the Time Lord stayed away. He wouldn't deny that his own jealousy was playing a part in that desire, but first and foremost was his concern for Jack. And if Jack didn't want the Doctor turning up, then Ianto intended to ensure his wish was honoured.

"You're not wrong," Ianto whispered to his sleeping lover. "You're not a freak. If he dares to come anywhere near you, he's going to find out exactly how we feel about that."

* * *

When Toshiko emerged back into the Hub, she was surprised to find Kathy gone, and said as much to the others.

"She had to go," Owen replied as he studied the video feed from the Griffin Arms pub. "Her superintendent called her on her mobile and told her to get her arse back to Police Headquarters right away. Sour old bastard, by the sounds of it. Could hear him yelling at her down the phone all the way from autopsy. Anyway, she said she'd be back tonight, once she was off duty."

"Oh," Tosh murmured, not quite sure what to say.

"How is Jack?" Gwen interjected into the sudden silence. Tosh considered the question for a moment before responding honestly.

"Not good."

Owen grunted, though not derisively.

"That, Tosh, is a very big understatement."

"I just don't think I've ever seen him so utterly devastated before," Tosh went on in a soft voice, as though she was afraid that Jack might somehow hear her. Owen raised an eyebrow slightly.

"No? I have."

"When?" Tosh asked, puzzled. Owen looked away from the three women, unable to look any of them in the eye.

"When we all betrayed him and opened the rift."

An uncomfortable silence blanketed them, and neither Gwen nor Tosh even tried to dispute him. Finally, Owen sighed and got back up.

"Tosh, can you come and give me a hand? Some of the equipment in autopsy needs recalibrating, and we might as well do it now."

"Of course," Toshiko agreed, and followed him to the autopsy bay. Tish watched them go, and felt her stomach roll unpleasantly as their voices floated back to her.

"You know, I think Ianto might not react too kindly if the doctor were to turn up now," she heard Toshiko say.

"Tosh, love, it'll be a toss-up over who gets the first punch in. You, me, Gwen or Ianto. If he does dare show his face, he's going to find he's got a hell of a lot to answer for..."

Tish shut out their voices, and made her way slowly over to Gwen.

"Would you really treat the Doctor like that if he turned up?" she asked tentatively. Gwen swung around in her seat to look at her.

"Well, I don't know about wanting to hit him... After all, Owen's right. We betrayed Jack, too, so I guess we don't have any right to stand in judgement over him. But Jack has every right to still be angry with him. You heard the same as us, Tish. He abandoned Jack, god only knows how many years into the future. Left him alone surrounded by corpses, not knowing what had happened to him..." Gwen shuddered a little at the thought. "I can't begin to imagine what that must have been like. So even though we don't really have the right to condemn the Doctor, I still think it'd be a good idea not to contact him. It might only make it worse for Jack in the long run."

Tish felt her stomach roll unpleasantly.

"It, um... might be a little late for that."

Gwen stared at her, realisation slowly dawning in her eyes.

"Tish, sweetheart, what did you do?"

Tish let her breath out in a rush, and her shoulders slumped heavily. Here went everything.

"I called Martha. I didn't tell her what had happened to Jack, but I kind of suggested that she should call the Doctor and tell him to come and see Jack."

Gwen's face fell.

"Oh, Tish..."

"It was before we knew about what happened on that satellite," Tish protested anxiously. "If I'd known about that, I would never have called Martha, I swear it! But I honestly thought it might help Jack if the Doctor came. Because he really does care about him, and Jack just doesn't seem to want to believe that at the moment. I... I suppose I'll need to tell Jack, won't I?"

Logic told Gwen yes, that Jack needed to know it was possible that the Doctor might turn up, but her emotions once more overrode logic. In her heart, Gwen believed Tish was right; that Jack needed to see the Doctor to have it cemented in his own heart and mind that the Doctor did care about him. If Jack was made aware that the Doctor might come, he would probably actively take steps to stop him from coming.

"No, don't say anything," Gwen told her quickly. "Not to Jack, and not to any of the others. Let's just keep this to ourselves... because you don't know for certain that he'll come, do you?"

"Well... no..."

"And we don't want Jack thinking he's coming, only for him not to come after all, right?"

Tish winced at the thought.

"That would be awful..."

"Exactly. So we'll just keep it between us, and we'll deal with it _if_ he shows up. All right?"

Tish was silent for nearly a minute as she considered that. Gwen's words made sense – it would only hurt Jack all over again if they told him the Doctor might be coming, and then have him not put in an appearance. She nodded slowly. The last thing she wanted to do was to be responsible for Jack enduring more hurt, and so pushing aside the unease, she conceded to Gwen's decision.

"All right. I won't say anything."

Gwen smiled with relief.

"Good girl. All right, let's start getting ready for tonight, then, shall we?"

And shoving all doubt from her mind, Tish went with Gwen to make preparations for the coming evening.

* * *

Kathy arrived back at Police Headquarters to find her superintendent waiting for her. He was looking distinctly unimpressed.

"Where the hell have you been, Swanson?"

She hesitated, searching her mind for a suitable answer that did not include 'I've been working with Torchwood'.

"I've been following up on a few leads with the Harkness assault case," she answered, doing her level best to keep her tone calm and even. "No luck, though. Oh, and I tried to get back in to see the Captain, but no joy there. That Torchwood lot have closed ranks around him."

She thought in retrospect that perhaps she'd said too much, but he didn't appear to react.

"Well, never mind that for now. Come with me. We have a suspect in custody, and I want you to question him."

Kathy stared at him in shock.

"What? How? When?"

"He was in the drunk tank, incredibly enough. A young kid by the name of Christopher Kendle. He's just twenty-two years old."

"And we know he was involved in the assault on Harkness because...?"

The superintendent regarded her soberly.

"One of Kendle's cellmates tried to get friendly with him. We have Kendle on camera, telling the bloke to leave him alone or he'd get the same as Kendle and his mates gave to that, and I quote, 'fucking poof in the blue army coat on Christmas Eve'."

"Bloody hell," Kathy whispered. She wondered how Torchwood were going to deal with this. Would they flex their muscles and try to take Kendle out of police custody, or would they find some other way of dealing with him...?

"Swanson?"

She blinked and looked back at him questioningly.

"Sir?"

"He's waiting to be interviewed now, Swanson. Will you take charge of it?"

"Yes, of course," she agreed, already wondering how she was going to warn Jack and his team of this. "I'll head up there now. Just need to check in at my desk first..."

"No time, Detective. Kendle's already been in our custody for nearly twenty-four hours. We need something solid quickly to be able to charge him. The footage from the cells gives us a starting point, but it would never stand up in court as a confession. His lawyer is already trying to say it was just something he blurted out half drunk to keep himself from being assaulted."

Kathy raised an eyebrow.

"If that was true, how would he have known Harkness was wearing a blue coat?"

The superintendent smiled wryly and motioned in the direction of the interview rooms.

"Why don't you go and ask him right now?"

She bit back a groan, and nodded.

"All right. Okay. I'll go and question him."

* * *

_tbc..._


	19. The Art of Confession

Chris Kendle was one very sorry looking son of a bitch, Kathy decided as she walked into the interview room. He looked like he was still at the worst end of a particularly bad hangover, and she couldn't help but wonder just how aware he was of his surroundings.

He watched her sullenly as she sat down opposite him, and she couldn't help but wonder at how a kid like this could possibly commit the kinds of acts such as those that had been perpetrated on Jack.

"Is it Christopher, or just Chris?" she asked, keeping her voice deliberately neutral. As the superintendent had said, the kid's words in the cell did not translate directly into a confession, and she needed something solid if they were going to be able to hold him. The best way to do that was to try and develop a rapport.

He glared back at her insolently.

"Mr Kendle to you, bitch."

"Watch your mouth, Christopher," she threw back at him, funperturbed by his attitude. "You're in enough trouble as it is without getting on my bad side."

"I got pissed," Chris snarled. "That's all. I didn't do nothing else. You can't keep me here!"

"You say you didn't do anything," Kathy said. "However, our footage of you in the cells tells us a different story."

His lawyer, Harold Bunter, silenced Chris with a hand on his arm before speaking placidly to Kathy.

"Detective, my client was under threat of being sexually assaulted, and he was still under the influence of alcohol, into the bargain. You can't possibly take anything he said in there seriously. He would have said anything to save himself from being assaulted."

Kathy glared at him, utterly unsympathetic.

"It's a pity that Jack Harkness wasn't given the same chance to save himself, then, wasn't it?"

"I didn't do nothing to that faggot," Chris said sourly. Kathy raised an eyebrow.

"If you didn't have anything to do with that assault, Chris, then how would you know that Captain Harkness is gay?"

Chris looked to his lawyer with a visible hint of panic, but Bunter spoke up quickly for his client.

"You can't pin this on my client, Detective. You have no evidence to prove he was a part of what happened to that man, aside from a few drunken words said in the heat of the moment. There's no way you can possibly make this stick against him."

"No?" Kathy asked coolly. "Watch me."

"I'll thank you not to threaten my client, Detective," Bunter said flatly. "Unless you _want_ to lose your rank?"

Kathy almost lounged back in her chair, unperturbed.

"Now who's making threats, Mr Bunter? Anyway, I'm really not in the mood for playing verbal ping-pong, so how about we agree to be straight with each other, Chris? I'll ask straight-forward questions and you give me straight-forward answers. Fair enough?"

Chris looked uneasy, but shrugged a little in an effort to put forward an air of cool indifference.

"I guess so."

"All right. Did you take part in the sexual assault and physical torture of Captain Jack Harkness on Christmas Eve?"

"No fuckin' way. Wasn't me."

"And yet you said you did whilst in your cell."

Bunter spoke up with growing impatience.

"I thought we cleared that up, Detective."

"Only in your own mind," she snapped. Bunter stood up abruptly.

"We're leaving. Get up, Chris."

Kathy regarded them soberly as Chris lurched to his feet.

"I'd sit back down if I were you, Chris."

"Yeah? Why?" he sneered. She allowed herself a tiny smile.

"There's something you ought to know about the man that you assaulted. He's the head of Torchwood."

Chris frowned in visible confusion.

"Just what the fuck is Torchwood? He said he was Torchwood that other night, and the lads just thought he… oh… fuck…"

It was all Kathy could do not to laugh. That really had proven to be embarrassingly easy.

"I think your client had best sit back down, Mr Bunter. He's not going to be going anywhere anytime soon."

Chris sat again with a thud, and so did his lawyer.

"Now," Kathy went on in a more subdued tone. "I think you'd better be prepared to spill your guts, Chris, because a full confession now is the only thing that's going to save your sorry arse."

"Again with the threats, Detective," Bunter reiterated, though there was less vehemence in his voice than before. Kathy shook her head.

"Not a threat, Mr Bunter. Not from me. But as I said, the man your client assaulted is the head of Torchwood, and that is a very powerful organisation. They operate outside all official jurisdictions, and I guarantee they wouldn't blink twice at dealing with a little degenerate like Chris here."

Bunter stared at her, pale and grim-faced. Beside him, Chris was almost in tears. Both men recognised the truth in her words, and the reality was scaring the hell out of the both of them.

"What is it that you want?" Bunter asked. Kathy stared hard at Chris.

"Names and addresses of everyone involved in the assault, whether they laid a hand on the victim or not."

By then, Chris had lost all his arrogance, and was looking thoroughly sick.

"They'll kill me," he mumbled, but with little conviction. Kathy shrugged.

"Your choice," she said as she stood up. "We're going to find them, whether you help us or not. But I can tell you right now that it'd go in your favour with the judge if you cooperate. Think about it, Chris, but don't think for too long. You pretty much have until we finish laying charges against you to make up your mind."

Chris stared at her, wide-eyed, and then leaned over and whispered urgently to his lawyer. Bunter's eyebrows shot up in reaction to whatever he was being told. Minutes passed, with Kathy growing more uneasy, before Bunter finally spoke again.

"Well, that puts things in a different light. Go ahead and charge my client, Detective. He'll be pleading provocation and self defence."

Kathy sat back down, unable to conceal her incredulity.

"Excuse me? And how, exactly, are you going to argue that? From what I can tell, your client was completely unharmed!"

"Physically, perhaps, but I'm talking about psychological provocation. My client is a God-fearing Christian…"

"Who assaulted and raped another man, and left him for dead," Kathy spat angrily. "Yes, I can see he's a model Christian."

Bunter scowled, but didn't react to the barb.

"He was raised with the belief that homosexuality was wrong and evil, and that it was his duty as a Christian to act against that sort of evil."

Kathy felt her stomach starting to knot up. She could already see where this was headed. Bunter went on with greater confidence, sensing suddenly that he was regaining the upper hand.

"Chris says that Harkness made advances towards him, and that he was quite aggressive about it. He refused and left the pub, but Harkness followed him out. Tell her the rest, Chris."

"Well, he followed me out, right? And he cornered me near that big black truck of his. He was tryin' to kiss me… said he weren't gonna take no for an answer."

Kathy was fighting to stay calm by then.

"Are you trying to tell me that you were afraid he was going to rape you?"

"Yeah!" Chris burst out, pouncing on that with a desperation that was almost frightening. "Yeah, that's it. He was gonna rape me."

_Bullshit, you fucking little toad_, Kathy thought, but she swallowed the desire to say the words out loud. Chris went on eagerly, his voice gathering strength as the lie took shape within his own mind.

"So, he has me pinned, yeah? But my mates, they followed us out, and they… they pulled him off me, right. And that was when Gav said we oughtta teach him a lesson."

By then, Kathy was trying hard to resist a powerful urge to laugh. The story was rubbish, but she had no inclination to waste the time now in pulling it to pieces.

"Chris," she said tersely, "even if what you've just said is true, and I don't believe for a second that it is, then self defence would have been a few quick punches or kicks. Not what you and your mates did. That was pure, unadulterated evil."

Rage flashed across Chris's face at her blunt accusation.

"Evil? He's the one who's evil! He's a poof, a fucking homo! I only had to bat my eyes at the fucker, and he would've jumped into bed with me! He weren't half as hard to catch out as the others…"

Again, Chris trailed off as he realised too late what he'd said. He stared at Kathy, wide-eyed, and she returned the look with one of grim satisfaction.

"I did some research, Chris. There have been eight others who have been killed in similar circumstances to the attack on Jack Harkness. Tell me, Chris. Did all your other victims try to rape you as well?"

Bunter stood up again abruptly.

"This interview is over. If you're going to charge my client over the Christmas Eve assault on Mr Harkness, then do so. But he will be pleading not guilty by reason of provocation."

Kathy pursed her lips in mute aggravation. Never before had she so badly wanted to shoot a suspect and his lawyer.

"So be it," she said harshly. "An officer will be in shortly to formalise the charges against you."

She walked out before either man had a chance to speak again. The superintendent was waiting for her when she emerged, and his expression was worried.

"Think there's any truth to it?" he asked. Kathy shook her head vehemently, still nauseated that one of Jack's attackers could have resorted to accusing him of attempted rape in order to save himself.

"No. Not a chance. Jack Harkness might be a lot of things, but he's no criminal, and he sure as hell is not a rapist."

"Well, all else aside, we're going to need to get Harkness to formerly identify Kendle, somehow. Kathy… I've been hearing rumours."

"What rumours would those be, sir?" she asked, quietly dreading what was coming.

"That Harkness somehow faked the extent of his injuries. Word is that one of our PCs sighted him the night before last, and that he was healthy as a horse."

Kathy suppressed a desire to moan. Now, more than ever, she was finally beginning to understand why Jack and his team had wanted to take the case away from the police. Jack had been right. There was no way it could be allowed to go to trial.

"He didn't fake anything, sir. Believe me on that. His injuries were very, very real."

The superintendent frowned, her choice of words not lost on him.

"_Were_, Detective?"

"From what I saw, sir," she answered, taking care to maintain eye contact with him. "He wasn't faking anything, and I'd testify to that in court."

Except, she knew then and there that neither Chris nor any of his mates would get a trial; because as soon as she had the opportunity to do so, she would be calling Torchwood and telling them about Chris. What actions Torchwood took after that would be their concern.

"Fine. Coming, then?"

She blinked at him, puzzled.

"Sir…?"

"The meeting with the Detective Chief Inspector, the Commissioner and the Mayor, remember? It was scheduled for this morning, but they agreed to postpone it until this afternoon so that the interrogation of Kendle could go ahead. We're due in the Commissioner's office now."

Kathy swallowed a curse. That meeting would literally tie her up for the rest of the day, and she had to contact Jack.

"Right, sir. I'll be there shortly. Just have some business to attend to first."

"It'll have to wait," he said dismissively. "The Commissioner's office, Detective. _Now_."

She went with extreme reluctance, hoping desperately that Chris Kendle wasn't released on bail before she had a chance to contact Torchwood.

* * *

Ianto awoke to an empty bed. Startled back into awareness, he sat up quickly, his eyes searching the dimly lit room for Jack. He was both surprised and relieved to find Jack sitting beside the bed in the armchair. He was staring ahead blankly, his mind seemingly elsewhere.

There was an aura of calm surrounding him, like he'd finally found some degree of inner peace. It lifted Ianto's hopes; that perhaps Jack was starting to come to terms with everything that had happened.

"Cariad?" he asked softly. He made no move towards Jack, not wanting to startle him in any way, and was careful to keep his voice low and calm. Jack looked around at Ianto, and the younger man was taken aback by the new determination in Jack's eyes. His breath caught for a moment before he finally found his voice again.

"Jack, are you okay?"

"Not yet," Jack answered softly. "But I will be."

"You sound different," Ianto murmured. "Jack, what is it? What are you thinking?"

"That the time for tears is over. No more tears, Ianto. No more being afraid. I want control of my life back."

"You will have, Jack," Ianto reassured him. Jack stared at him intently.

"When we… When I pick them out, I don't want to just sit back in the Hub while the rest of you go and deal with them. I want to be in it with you."

Ianto faltered, his breath catching in his throat.

"You don't have to, Jack…"

The look on Jack's face brought him up short, though.

"Yes, I do," Jack said, with soft tones that didn't quite suffice to mask the layer of steel hidden beneath. "I do have to, Ianto. I have to prove that I'm in control of my own life. I have to show that I'm not afraid."

"Cariad, it's okay to be afraid. Even for you…"

"No!" Jack burst out. "No, it's not! I'm supposed to be the strong one, damn it!"

"You are," Ianto assured him. "But that doesn't mean that you're not allowed to be afraid. You don't have anyone to prove anything to, Jack."

"Yes, I do."

"To who?" Ianto asked, trying hard not to sound incredulous, and then instantly regretted asking, because there was only one individual to whom he imagined Jack might think he still had something to prove, and that was the Doctor. He could taste the bitterness on his tongue merely at the thought of the Time Lord, and braced himself for what he believed was coming.

"To me," Jack replied softly, startling Ianto out of his growing irritation.

"Jack…" he stammered, thrown for a loop by the unexpected response. Jack cut him off quietly but firmly.

"I'm going to be around for a long, long time, Ianto. I can't afford to live in fear, and I've already given those bastards enough of my time. I need to be able to prove to myself that I can move past this now, before it tears me down completely."

"Jack, it's only been five days!" Ianto protested. "You can't just deal with this in five days, and expect to be over it!"

"Why can't I?" Jack demanded to know, teetering on the brink of anger. "Why, Ianto? Tell me!"

"Well… because…"

Ianto trailed off, at a loss. Jack went on soberly.

"I have to face them, and not just on a computer screen. I'm still in charge here, and I say I'm going. You're either with me or you're not."

Ianto flinched at the ultimatum.

"Jack, of course I'm with you," he soothed. "We all are. We just want you to be safe."

"Safe," Jack murmured, a touch derisively. "I didn't stay with Torchwood to be safe."

"You know what I mean," Ianto said with a sigh. "Is it so hard for you to let us do the work for once, Jack? To let us be the ones caring for you?"

Jack reached out slowly and curled his fingers around Ianto's in a tentative gesture.

"Yes… and no. It's not about letting you look after me, though. I don't actually have an issue with that. It's… It's about not having control over my own life. And that's a scary thing, Ianto, when you know you've got forever ahead of you."

Ianto drew Jack's hand in close and brushed his cheek against the flesh of Jack's knuckles.

"I think I understand. The others will, too. Or rather, Toshiko and Owen will. Not so sure about Gwen."

A tiny smile quirked Jack's lips, amused as he was by the sudden irritation that was audible in Ianto's voice.

"Are you jealous of her?"

Indignation flooded Ianto's face.

"What? No! Of course I'm not. Don't be ridiculous."

"But… you feel threatened by her…"

"Jack…" Ianto growled lightly in warning. "Leave it."

"Just trying to get a handle on the situation," Jack said with a wry smile that softened into something more loving as he watched his young lover. "Just trying to work out exactly how hard I'm going to have to work to prove to you that you don't have anything to worry about, Mr Jones. I'm all yours, I guarantee it."

Emotion flooded Ianto.

"Jack, I would very much like to kiss you right now. Would it be all right if I did that?"

Jack looked momentarily taken aback, but then he shifted from the chair to seat himself on the edge of the bed. From there, he leaned in slowly until his and Ianto's lips met.

It was a chaste kiss, but even so Jack's breath caught as they came together. It lasted only for a few seconds, but there was a world of meaning conveyed in those few seconds of tender contact.

"Thankyou," Jack whispered as their foreheads rested lightly together.

"For what?" Ianto wondered. He had a powerful urge to reach up and caress Jack's face, and had to actively suppress the desire. Everything to happen in Jack's time – not his.

"For being patient. For understanding. For not expecting more from me than I can give you right now."

A soft sigh escaped Ianto's lips.

"It's the very least I can give you, cariad. Any ordinary person in your situation might have taken weeks… maybe even months… to get to where you are right now. If you deserve anything, it's to be given time."

Jack turned a little and settled in against Ianto, resting his head on Ianto's shoulder. Instinctively, Ianto wound his arms around Jack's body, drawing him into a protective embrace.

"If you really feel you need to be involved in the operation, Jack, then none of us will argue with you. We just want to know that you aren't trying to do anything before you're ready."

Jack considered that seriously before responding.

"I don't know if I'm ready. I just know it's something that I have to do. I faced down Daleks without flinching, Ianto, back when dead really meant dead for me. I won't accept that I'm too frightened now to face six men who can't actually do me any permanent damage."

"Maybe not physically," Ianto countered gently, "but I know why this hurts so much worse. They're humans, and they shouldn't behave like that towards a fellow human."

Jack tensed just slightly in Ianto's arms.

"How…?"

"The Brecon Beacons, Jack. You never were able to understand how humans could do what those people did."

"Just didn't make any sense to me," Jack admitted. "Everything that's getting ready to come down on them, and all they cared about was…"

He trailed off, unable to bring himself to say anymore. Silence fell between them, a comfortable and comforting silence. In that silence, Ianto's thoughts backtracked. Jack's reference to the Daleks, and the battle on Satellite Five had reminded him of something that he knew Jack needed to be told about.

"Jack… The others heard what you told me about Satellite Five. The intercom was still on, apparently. They overheard everything."

He fully expected Jack to withdraw from him, and was surprised when it didn't happen. When Jack spoke again, there was almost a tone of amusement in his voice.

"I should be upset. I know I should be. But you know something, Ianto?"

"What, Jack?"

"I'm actually kind of relieved. "It's out in the open now. I don't have to hide anymore."

Ianto took to stroking Jack's hair lightly.

"No, you don't. And now we understand why you were waiting for the Doctor, as well as why you had to leave so abruptly to catch up to him. He was the only one who could explain your immortality."

Jack sighed.

"I'm sorry I hurt you by doing that, but it did help me with one thing."

Ianto peered down at Jack curiously.

"What's that, then?"

"I was in love with the Doctor," Jack admitted softly, and it was all Ianto could do not to tense at the confession. Jack, however, went on before he had a chance to notice anything was wrong. "I was in love with him; heart, mind and soul… but not with this regeneration. I was in love with the regeneration that I met in London, in 1941, the regeneration who saved me from myself. I still love the Doctor. I'll always love him… but I know now that I'm not _in_ love with him anymore. That's reserved for you now, Ianto."

Unable to help himself, Ianto pressed a tender kiss to Jack's temple, and was gratified when Jack didn't flinch or pull away from him.

"I love you too, cariad. I love you so much, and I promise I'll never let you down again."

Jack grasped his hand and squeezed it gently.

"Don't say that, Ianto. Neither of us can promise that."

Ianto conceded that point, if somewhat reluctantly. As much as he wanted to pledge to Jack that he would never do anything to hurt him again, he knew it was a foolish promise to make. He settled instead for a compromise.

"Well, how about this, then? I promise that I'll always try, and that I won't give up on us. How does that sound?"

Jack smiled faintly.

"I think I can live with that. And… I promise, too."

Ianto smiled and pressed another soft kiss to the top of Jack's head.

"Cara 'ch, anwylyd asgre," Ianto whispered, and Jack smiled as he took comfort in their closeness.

"I love you, too."

* * *

_tbc..._


	20. Trouble Brewing

They emerged back into the Hub to the rather enticing smell of Chinese take-away, and Owen motioned to some as yet unopened dishes that sat on the table.

"Good timing. Food'll still be hot, but I suggest you help yourselves now before the girls eat it all."

There was an indignant squawk from Gwen and Toshiko's general direction, while Tish only giggled.

Jack followed Ianto over and peered at the selection before picking up a container filled with sliced beef. Ensconcing himself on the sofa, he began to eat slowly, apparently oblivious to the relieved looks he was getting from his team.

"Any movement at the location yet?" Ianto asked quietly. He was anxious to divert the attention of the others away from Jack, before the Captain noticed.

"Not yet," Gwen replied. "Just the bartender, in early to set up. Is he…?"

"Coping," Ianto cut her off succinctly. "For now, at least." He paused, glancing over to where Jack was currently negotiating a pair of chopsticks. "I told him that you overheard what he told me about Satellite Five."

Gwen, Toshiko and Owen all winced.

"How'd he take it?" Tosh wondered.

"Better than I expected him to," Ianto admitted. "I thought he might have been angry... or defensive... but he just accepted it."

"That's not like him," Owen mused, and Ianto shrugged a little in response.

"I can't explain it, suffice to say that maybe he just has more to be concerned about at the moment."

"Hey!"

Jack's voice cut into their murmured conversation, and they all looked around to see him still sitting on the couch, but watching them indignantly.

"I _can_ hear you, you know," he grouched. "If you're going to talk about me behind my back, you could at least make sure you do it where I don't have to listen to it."

"Sorry, Jack," Ianto apologised as they joined him. Jack shook his head.

"No, you're not."

A wry smile touched Ianto's lips.

"No," he agreed. "I'm not."

Jack smiled faintly.

"You want to know why I wasn't upset to hear that you overheard me?" He continued on without waiting for an answer. "I'm just too fucking tired to give a damn."

Startled silence met his words.

"Given up the moral high ground on swearing, have you?" Owen asked wryly, to which Jack replied with a warning glare.

"Don't, Owen."

Owen held up his hands in mock surrender. Jack shook his head, torn between irritation and amusement.

"Ianto wasn't far off," he continued. "There's too much else to be worried about right now. I'll deal with fallout later, if I have to."

"But Jack," Gwen ventured, "what you said about the Doctor..."

"Gwen," Jack cut her off in a warning tone, "let it go. I told the story once. I don't want to talk about it anymore. Please respect that."

"But, I thought everything was okay between you and the Doctor," Tish said, speaking up for the first time. They could all see Jack's jaw clenching with fresh tension.

"Yeah, well... Some things aren't easily forgotten," Jack muttered before shoving another piece of meat into his mouth. "Especially now."

He didn't need to elaborate any further, and after a brief look exchanged between the rest of them, it was silently and unilaterally agreed upon to let it go.

"I hate to have to bring this up now," Owen said, deciding a change in the direction of the conversation was called for, "but we have UNIT inquiring after us."

Jack's frown deepened, while at the same time he felt a marked relief that he had something else entirely to focus on.

"UNIT? What do they want?"

"I took a phone call from a certain General while you were having some time-out," Owen explained. "He said, and I quote, 'after some disconcerting reports, UNIT's decided to send an officer to liaise between us and them'. In other words, they want to send someone to spy on us."

"Disconcerting reports?" Jack echoed, puzzled. Owen shifted awkwardly. He'd raised the subject with the intention of moving away from the subject of Jack's assault, only to suddenly find himself back at square one.

"Well... You know... about..."

"You mean, they know about what happened to me, and now they think I'm incapable of dealing with Torchwood, and they want to step in and take over," Jack said bluntly. Owen had the good grace to look embarrassed.

"Yeah, it was something along those lines."

Jack swore softly under his breath, and got abruptly to his feet.

"Whoa, Jack, what are you doing?" Ianto burst out. Jack strode past, expertly dodging Ianto's attempt to catch hold him back.

"I'm going to go into my office and call a certain General, and show him that he's operating under a grave misconception. If you'll excuse me, I think I'm in just the right mood to be yelling at someone."

Owen snorted loudly as Jack vanished into his office.

"That UNIT general isn't gonna know what's hit him."

"You shouldn't have said anything," Ianto growled. "He doesn't need that kind of stress."

"On the contrary, mate. I reckon a good shouting match might be exactly what he needs. Get rid of some of that tension. It'll do him good to verbally crush some hapless UNIT officials into submission. You'll see."

He paused, and looked up in mild amusement as the sound of Jack's raised voice reached them through the closed door of his office. Ianto looked unconvinced, but decided it wasn't worth arguing. All else aside, Owen had been incredibly perceptive thus far to Jack's fluctuating moods. Maybe, just maybe, he was right this time as well.

"You know," Gwen said quietly, "we haven't really talked about what we're going to do beyond getting Jack to identify the men who attacked him. I mean, we _are_ going to have to go in there, whether Jack likes it or not."

"Never mind that," Ianto said ruefully as he was inadvertently reminded of another aspect of his conversation with Jack. "He's decided he wants to come."

Startled silence greeted Ianto's statement. And then…

"The hell he is!" Owen growled. "If he wants to confront these bastards, then he can do it once we've got them safely locked up. Not before. He's not putting himself at risk just for the sake of a little bit of payback!"

Ianto shook his head slowly.

"I don't think it's as simple as that, Owen. It's not about payback. Not for Jack, not now. There's more to it. I can't really explain it, but he needs this. He needs to be involved, and not left behind."

It was Owen's turn to look unconvinced, but also reluctant to carry on the argument.

"Later," he said tensely, his gaze going up to Jack's office, where the shouting had increased in intensity. All of a sudden, the medic was uncertain of the wisdom of allowing Jack to go and initiate a fight with UNIT over the phone. "We'll deal with that when we get to it."

"Shouldn't someone go in there?" Tish wondered uneasily.

"Trust me," Ianto said grimly. "You really don't want to interrupt him." He hesitated at the unmistakable sound of something being thrown across the room in Jack's office. "But on the other hand, perhaps it wouldn't be such a bad idea."

He rose up and headed for Jack's office, cringing as the previously incoherent shouted became clearer.

"…belongs to me, you arrogant son of a bitch! I don't give a damn what you think! You have no jurisdiction over us. I only answer to one person, and that sure as hell isn't you! …No, you listen to _me_. You stay away from Cardiff, and away from me. Do not bother sending anyone, because they will _not_ be welcomed. Not by me, and not by my team."

There was a long moment of silence, and then Ianto winced as fresh rage flared up in Jack's face.

"Torchwood is _mine_, General. I rebuilt it from scratch after the Canary Wharf catastrophe which, but the way, UNIT did nothing to prevent. I am not about to sit back and let some two-bit fraud with stripes on his uniform come in and take it away from me! Just stay away from us, and stay away from me!"

He slammed the phone down and took a moment to rub at his temples before a polite cough alerted him to the fact that he was not alone.

"Feeling better, then?" Ianto queried, not quite able to keep a subtle tone of sarcasm out of his voice. Jack sighed and slumped back in his chair.

"Not really. So… that sounded…?"

Ianto stepped fully into the office and let the door swing shut behind him.

"Just a touch megalomaniacal. You realise they're more likely now than ever to send someone?"

Jack snorted.

"Let them. I've got plenty of retcon."

Ianto was quietly proud of the way he managed to avoid showing any reaction at all to the reference to retcon.

"If you don't mind me saying, Jack, you've been particularly hostile towards UNIT ever since you came home to us. Any special reason for that?"

Jack raised his eyes just briefly to his young lover.

"UNIT supported _him_."

_Him_…_?_ Ianto wondered, but then he realised who Jack was talking about, and some more puzzle pieces slotted into place.

"You mean Saxon."

"Yeah," Jack confirmed. "The Master. A lot of them worked for him during that year, and not one of them lifted a finger to help me or the Jones family. Then when it was all over, they all claimed they'd been forced. That they hadn't been given a choice."

"But you don't believe that," Ianto interjected, and Jack sighed.

"Doesn't matter now. I just don't trust UNIT. They're not the same as they were in the earlier days. There's more of a militancy about them now… if that makes any sense. I just don't trust them."

"If they do send someone," Ianto assured him, "we'll deal with it together. But right now we have other business."

And with that, the previous tension was back.

"Okay," Jack mumbled, but made no attempt to move. Ianto stepped around the desk and held out a hand to the Captain. Jack accepted, taking courage from the offered support.

"Okay," he said again. "Let's go watch some spy cam."

* * *

_UNIT Headquarters, London_

The General hung up the phone, grimacing at the ringing in his ear. He'd heard of UNIT officials in the past having vastly unpleasant phone conversations with Jack Harkness, but he was positive that the _discussion_ which had just ended was arguably the worst yet. On the other hand, though, it had been perfectly timed to coincide with his current guest's visit. And, judging by the look on the other's face, it was not going to take much to convince him that urgent intervention was required at Torchwood.

"You see?" he said with a slight huff. "The man is utterly off his trolley. Extremely volatile and dangerous, and _not_ someone that I'd prefer to see in charge of a place like Torchwood. Frankly, I'd rather see Torchwood shut down entirely, and I'm sure you'd agree. This world would be much better off without it."

"What, exactly, are you asking me to do, General?"

"Go in there. Take control of the place for us, because I think it's fairly obvious that Harkness is out of control. You heard him. He's treating Torchwood like his own personal empire. The man's turning out just like Yvonne Hartman, and he needs to stopped before we end up with another Canary Wharf on our hands. You're the only man who might have a chance at stopping him, because I know what will happen if I send in any of my own people. They'll come back not knowing their own damn names."

Dark eyes regarded the General critically.

"And what happens to Captain Harkness if I do go in there and… stop him, as you say?"

"Well, he'll be tried for treason, for starters."

A single eyebrow rose.

"Treason? What's his crime, General, aside from being a proverbial pain in your side?"

"Endangering the Empire," the General replied sharply. "He treats that rift in Cardiff like it's his own personal plaything. Bloody fool, he's likely to blow the whole city… Hell, the whole of Wales sky high if we don't do something about it now!"

"I see."

"Look, we'll give him a fair hearing, but he can't be allowed back into Torchwood. Far too much power for the likes of him."

The shadow-cloaked figure regarded the General piercingly.

"I'll go, but I'm going alone. You aren't to send your people in unless I ask for them. Am I understood, General?"

"Yes, perfectly…"

"Good. Because I have no intentions of taking Torchwood out of the hands of one potential madman, only to place it into the hands of another. You'll play by my rules on this, or you might just find my sympathies landing with Captain Harkness. And don't think it wouldn't happen, either."

The General made no attempt to hide his cynicism, and his guest allowed himself a knowing smile.

"You think it's so impossible that I could side with Torchwood?"

The General snorted loudly.

"Please, spare me. We all know how you feel about Torchwood, after everything they did."

"That was Torchwood London, General, and I know for a fact that Torchwood Cardiff is a significantly different entity. Oh, don't look so surprised, General. If you can look me in the eye and tell me that Captain Harkness has ever deliberately done anything, _ever_, to put this planet at risk, anything to warrant a charge of treason – and I want specific examples, too – then I will deliver him to you personally. But I warn you, think very carefully before you respond. If you lie to me, then it won't be Jack Harkness who has anything to fear from me. It'll be _you_."

The General was looking considerably uncomfortable by then, and couldn't look his guest in the eye.

"Well… perhaps nothing _deliberate_, as such… But the man is dangerous!"

"So am I, General." He stood up abruptly. "As I said, I'll go and find out what's going on, and sort it out. But I will not be your lackey to play out a grudge match between you and him. If he has gone too far, then I'll deal with him, in my own way."

"You heard him on the phone! He was raving like a lunatic!"

"I heard an angry man who seems to be under the impression that you're planning to wrest control of Torchwood from him. Are you?"

"Torchwood has the capacity to do an awful lot of damage, as you well know. I just want to ensure that it never gets to that point again."

"So do I, General. So do I."

* * *

They watched the surveillance footage on the Hub monitors until nearly midnight before Jack finally turned away. He was a little on the pale side, but didn't appear too shaken.

"Time to wrap it up, people. They're not there, and it's nearly closing time. We'll try again tomorrow night."

"I'm sorry, Jack," Gwen murmured with sincere sympathy. He nodded, but said nothing, his eyes fixed resolutely on the opposite wall of the Hub.

"Look," Tosh spoke up, "if the rest of you want to get out of here, I don't mind staying. I have some equipment to sort through and catalogue anyway."

All eyes turned automatically to Jack, who seemed to consider it for a moment before speaking.

"I appreciate that, Toshiko. Thankyou, but it's okay. I'll set the alarms to divert to my phone, and I'll let you all know if there's an emergency. None of us are staying here tonight. But thankyou for offering."

She favoured him with a sweet smile, and reached out cautiously to brush her hand over his. The pleased surprise was evident on her face when Jack caught hold of her hand and squeezed gently in reply.

Ianto smiled to himself, and walked back to the couch, to collect his mobile phone from where he suddenly realised he'd inadvertently left it just before they'd started watching the surveillance footage. It was flashing an image of a closed envelope on the screen to indicate a new message and, by the looks of it, he also had a string of missed calls.

He checked the calls first – they were all from Kathy Swanson. There were eleven in total.

Ianto felt his stomach begin to knot up, and he reluctantly checked the message.

"Fuck!" Ianto exploded, bringing down a very abrupt silence.

"Ianto?" Jack queried. Ianto held up his phone.

"Message from Detective Swanson. It says 'suspect arrested. Twenty year-old Chris Kendle of Butetown." He let his free hand drop to his waist in a familiar, nervous gesture. "Released on bail three hours ago. And this message came through an hour ago, so in reality it was four hours ago."

"Bloody hell," Owen hissed. "No wonder none of them were there tonight. They were probably waiting on their mate to get bailed, and then spent their time find out what he told the coppers! Shit, why didn't she let us know? I thought she'd agreed to work with us on this!"

Ianto waved his phone at Owen in irritation.

"She tried to call my mobile phone eleven times, Owen. We never got the calls because I left my phone over here while we were busy watching the footage from the pub. I think I can reasonably say she made every effort to let us know."

"Go home, everyone," Jack said quietly. "I'll stay and call Kathy, and find out what's going on. Ianto…"

Ianto shook his head stubbornly.

"I'm not leaving unless you come with me. I'm not letting you stay here on your own, Jack."

To his relief, Jack actually appeared grateful.

"Thankyou," he said softly, without protest.

"We don't have to go either, right?" Gwen spoke up, looking around at the others for support. They all nodded in agreement, but Jack cut them off and spoke in a slightly gruffer tone.

"I said go home! It'll be a long day tomorrow, and I want you all to be able to think straight. Go, get out of here!"

They went, if somewhat reluctantly, leaving Jack and Ianto alone in the Hub.

"And what about you?" Ianto asked quietly. "Will you be able to think straight?"

Jack couldn't quite meet his gaze.

"I'm just going to call her. I want to know what happened, and how hard it's likely to be to pick the kid up tomorrow."

Ianto felt a touch of relief that Jack obviously wasn't planning on going out to find this Kendle person straight away, but at the same time he couldn't quite stop that knot in his gut from tightening.

"He's the one who baited you, isn't he?"

"Yeah," Jack murmured as he headed into his office. "He was the lure, and I went for it like the damned fool that I am..."

"Jack, don't," Ianto told him. "You said it yourself, that you didn't go through with it, and I would never hold you accountable just for flirting. It's a part of who you are. There's no reason or excuse for what they did to you."

Jack said nothing as he set up the speaker phone and dialled Kathy's number.

"_Hello?_"

"Kathy, it's Jack."

"_About bloody time! Do you realise I've been trying to reach you people for the last four hours?_"

"Yeah, I know," Jack admitted ruefully. "Where are you right now?"

"_On bloody nightshift, would you believe it? I keep wondering whether my superintendent knows that I'm working with you lot, because he kept me in a useless bloody meeting all afternoon, and then assigned me to cover another detective who couldn't do his shift. God, I hope_ _he doesn't know._"

Jack exchanged wry looks with Ianto before speaking again.

"We got the message about Kendle. Are you keeping tabs on him?"

"_We tried, but he gave us the slip. Little sod isn't as stupid as he made out to be, apparently._"

Jack released his breath in an irritated hiss, and had to swallow a scathing remark while reminding himself that it wasn't her fault.

"Okay, so we'll just have to go looking for him ourselves. I assume we have an address to start from?"

"_Yes, but you won't find him there. Odds are he's holed up somewhere with the same mates that took part in the attack on you._"

Jack smiled a true predatory smile that sent chills down Ianto's spine.

"That, Kathy, is something I'm counting on."

* * *

"I'm not really ready to go yet," Jack admitted as they finished closing the Hub, and setting the alarms to divert to their phones if an emergency arose. Ianto joined him where he stood near the lift.

"You don't want to stay here, do you...?"

"No!" Jack burst out, "No, I want to come home with you. It's just... I want to go for a walk, even if it's just around the Plas. I'd really like to get some fresh air, Ianto."

Ianto smiled, then.

"Why not? If you like, we can go down and walk around the boardwalk. Might be a bit brisk, but it looks like a lovely, clear night."

"I'd like that," Jack murmured appreciatively. "Thankyou."

"Are you taking the lift up?" Ianto queried. "It's just, I need to make sure everything is secure upstairs in the tourist office."

"You do that," Jack told him. "I'll go up this way, and I'll meet you down outside the tourist office."

Ianto acquiesced, watching with a slight smile as Jack rode the lift up to ground level. He could have pointed out that it made more sense for Jack to accompany him upstairs to the tourist office, but he was happy to indulge the Captain in this particular whim. It wasn't about expediency or convenience. It was about letting Jack prove to himself that he still had the confidence to be by himself away from the immediate sanctuary of the Hub.

Granted, walking across the Plas from one Hub entrance to the other wasn't exactly a ground-breaking act of independence, but it was a start.

He waited until the lift was almost to the top before heading out through the other entrance. By the time he stepped through into the tourist office, he figured Jack was probably waiting outside the door. Or, if not, was close to it.

Quickly locking up, he stepped outside to greet his lover, and froze. Jack was nowhere in sight.

Heart pounding, Ianto hurried towards the stairs leading up to the Plas. It was fine, he told himself. Jack was just taking his time. That was all. Nothing to worry about.

Ianto came up onto the Plas, and almost sagged with relief. There was Jack, standing perhaps fifty or so metres away, staring up at the clear, starry night.

A silly grin broke out over Ianto's face and he began to walk towards Jack. He'd barely taken three steps when a new sound broke the stillness. It was a sound that he had only ever hear once before, and that was in the aftermath of the Canary Wharf carnage.

The grin dropped away like a rock and, even as he started forward again at a run, a big, blue shape began to shimmer into existence _around_ Jack himself.

"Jack!" Ianto yelled as the box that he recognised as the Doctor's time ship began to solidify. The Captain looked around at him, an odd expression of shock, dismay and even a touch of panic on his face, before the walls completely solidified and Jack vanished from sight altogether.

Ianto uttered a wordless howl of rage as he slammed bodily against the door, but there was not even the slightest bit of give. He was locked out, and left with no other option than to wait.

* * *

Jack hadn't meant to dawdle. He really hadn't. He'd planned on heading straight for the tourist office and being there when Ianto emerged, so that they could take that walk together. And he really was looking forward to it. For starters, he'd been outside the Hub a total of three times since he'd fully recovered, and not one of those times had he really been able to just take a step back and enjoy being outdoors. Twice he'd almost literally been cowering in Ianto's car, and the other time he'd been focused on the weevil they were hunting. And oh, hadn't _that_ little outing turned out so well.

So, when the lift had carried him up to ground level, he'd been completely taken by the clear night, and found himself stopping to stare at the stars.

How long he'd been there for, he didn't really know, but he figured it must have been a while, as he spotted Ianto appearing out of the corner of his eye. He was about to call Ianto over, intending on pointing out some of the more obscure constellations, when a familiar whirring and grinding sound filled the air around him.

For a brief moment, his heart leapt in an deeply instinctive reaction. Just as quickly, though, darker and less noble feelings took hold. Then, he was distracted once again as he realised suddenly that the TARDIS was not merely appearing near him, but _around_ him.

"_Jack_!"

He heard Ianto yell, and looked around to see the young man running towards him as fast as he could. The last thing that registered in Jack's mind before the TARDIS took solid shape around him was the very real fear on his lover's face. Then Ianto was gone, along with all glimpses of the outside world.

* * *

_tbc..._


	21. Reluctant Resolutions

Jack turned, momentarily disoriented, until his eyes found the door

Jack turned, momentarily disoriented, until his eyes found the door. He stumbled over to the door and tried desperately to get it open, but to no avail. Turning, he soon found the cause of his apparent incarceration standing mere feet away from him.

"Let me out of here," Jack croaked out. The Doctor shook his head.

"Not yet, Jack. Not until we've had a good, long chat. The powers that be at UNIT aren't very happy with you at the moment. They've asked me personally to come and sort you out for them."

Jack froze, staring at the Doctor with an inscrutable expression.

"That's why you're here? Because of UNIT?"

"That's right."

"No… No other reason…?"

A frown flickered across the Doctor's face. Jack's tone and mannerism were already setting off alarm bells, and that choice of words was not helping.

"No, but you're starting to make me wonder. Jack, I was there listening to that phone call between you and General Macintyre, and I have to confess, it didn't put you in a very good light."

Jack turned away, ignoring the Doctor, and resumed his efforts to get the door open. The Doctor rolled his eyes in exasperation as he picked up snatches of murmured bribery from the Captain to the TARDIS.

"Will you please stop flirting with my ship? It's not going to get you out of here any faster."

Jack only responded with an incoherent grunt. The Doctor rolled his eyes.

"Would you please turn around and look at me? UNIT is very concerned about you and, quite frankly, so am I. The Jack Harkness I knew wouldn't let his temper get the better of him the way that you did earlier."

Jack paused just briefly, his fists clenched against the door. He could feel the beginnings of a panic attack, and knew that if he didn't get out of there soon, he wasn't going to be responsible for his actions.

"Maybe you don't know me as well as you think, then."

"No, that's not it. Jack, will you look at me? You know those doors are not going to open until I'm ready for them to. Your young man is just going to have to wait until I'm through with you."

Jack went rigid where he stood, his vision blurring and his heart rate sky-rocketing as his memories dragged him back unwillingly to that dank room once more.

_A face, leaning in close to his, leering and positively radiating hatred and violence…_

'_Wait 'til I'm through with you, pretty boy. We're gonna make sure you never look at another man again. Jus' you wait 'til I'm through with you_…_'_

"Jack…?"

The Doctor walked forward slowly, suddenly aware that something was very, very wrong.

"Jack, what's the matter? C'mon, talk to me. I can't get UNIT off your back unless you talk to me."

"Let me out," Jack whispered brokenly, his entire body trembling as he leaned against the door. "Please, let me out. Let me go. I… I need…"

"What?" the Doctor asked with a concerned frown. "Talk to me, Jack."

Jack was silent and for a long moment all the Doctor could hear was ragged breathing. Finally, the Doctor grew impatient with Jack's refusal to speak.

"Damn it, Jack, UNIT thinks you've gone off the rails, and I'm starting to wonder if maybe they're right! Now, will you come away from the door and face me?"

When Jack still refused to turn around, the Doctor growled in frustration and leaned in, grabbing Jack's arm in a bruising grip and physically pulling him away from the door.

Panic hit hard and fast. All of a sudden, Jack no longer saw the TARDIS, and the Doctor's concerned face blurred to become the face of every one of the six men who'd assaulted him.

With an incoherent scream, Jack wrenched out of the Doctor's grip and retaliated with a wild swing that just grazed the Doctor's cheek. He then tried to stumble away, only to trip against one of the supporting coral struts. The Captain landed with a painful, jarring jolt, and when the Doctor tried to take a step towards him, Jack scrambled away until he hit the wall, and could go no further.

As the Doctor watched in growing confusion and dismay, Jack literally curled in on himself, trembling and sobbing softly.

"Jack?" the Doctor asked, but there was no reaction. Crouching down, he reached out cautiously, only to quickly withdraw his hand when Jack visibly cringed away from the attempted contact.

"Jack, what's happened to you?" he asked softly. He felt the touch of the TARDIS' consciousness against his mind, urging him to open the door and let Jack's companion in. Reluctantly leaving Jack where he was, he went and unlocked the door. It swung open violently, and only a quick side-step saved a collision with the young man on the other side.

Ianto staggered into the TARDIS, looking around frantically.

"Where is he? What have you…? Jack!"

He spotted him by the wall of the ship, and his heart sank. Turning angrily, he glared at the Doctor with a ferocity that had the Time Lord stepping back in surprise.

"What have you done to him?" Ianto exploded. Without waiting for an answer, he hurried over to where Jack was huddling, and crouched down beside him. He spoke to Jack in a low, steady murmur, not yet touching him.

"Jack? I know you can hear me, cariad. I need you to come back to me, love. It's all right, you're safe. Please, Jack, come back to me. I'm here, anwylyd. I'm right here, and I promise you're safe. They won't be able to hurt you again, I swear it. Listen to me, Jack. Listen to me."

Slowly, Ianto reached out and closed his hand gently over Jack's clenched fist. The response was instantaneous, and went some way towards relieving Ianto's fears. Jack's hand turned in his and grabbed hold in a vice-like grip, and Ianto was sure that the glazed look of panic in Jack's eyes faded just a little.

"That's it," Ianto murmured as he shuffled closer and took a small liberty in reaching around to gently rub his hand over Jack's back and shoulders. He could feel the tremors that racked Jack's body gradually subsiding, signalling that the panic attack was already beginning to fade.

Close by, the Doctor watched in grim silence as Jack slowly calmed to the young man's gentle voice and soothing touch. He watched as Jack finally moved just far enough so that his head rested against Ianto's shoulder. He watched as Ianto continued to murmur soothingly, whispering nonsense words of comfort.

He watched as Jack's tremors eased off altogether, and calm and reason returned to his pale blue eyes.

"All right, anwylyd?" Ianto soothed. Jack shivered against him.

"If… If I say yes… would you believe me?"

Ianto smiled sadly, and brushed a feather-light kiss to Jack's temple.

"If _I_ said yes, would you believe _me_?"

A crooked smile quirked Jack's lips.

"You ignore my question, and I'll ignore yours."

"Deal," Ianto said with a soft laugh.

Slowly, Jack pushed himself up into a sitting position, but made sure to stay close to Ianto. Then, gradually, both men became consciously aware of the Doctor, who was standing there watching them.

"All of a sudden," the Doctor said soberly, "I'm getting the feeling that UNIT is the least of your worries."

His face darkened visibly, and Ianto got abruptly to his feet to confront the Time Lord.

"How dare you! You just… just show up out of the blue, and you don't even consider whether he wants to see you. You don't even ask! And then you trap him inside your ship! Do you have _any_ idea of the damage you could have done?"

The Doctor stared at Ianto, wide-eyed in astonishment, before looking past him to Jack.

"Got yourself a feisty one here, haven't you? Absolutely brill…"

He never had the chance to finish what he was saying. One moment he was standing there, grinning from ear to ear, and the next he was flat on his back after Ianto punched him.

"That was for leaving Jack behind!" Ianto snarled, flexing his fingers to rid them of the ache. The Doctor stared up at him for a long moment before another grin broke across his face.

"Oh, you're brilliant, you are. You'll want to hang on to this one, Jack. He's brilliant!"

By then, Jack had gotten to his feet as well, and he stepped past Ianto to pull the Doctor to his feet.

"I know he is. It's one of a whole lot of reasons why I love him."

And an instant later, the Doctor was sent staggering back into the consol when Jack hauled off and hit him as well.

"What was _that_ for?" the Doctor cried out indignantly. "_Him_ I get, but blimey, if I'd known you were going to hit first and talk later, I would've let Macintyre come himself!"

"Where were you?" Jack demanded in a guttural tone. The Doctor blinked at him, confused.

"Sorry?"

"Where were you?" Jack asked again in an increasingly strained voice. "On Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, where were you?"

And just like that, the Doctor's mask slammed into place.

"I was busy," he said flatly, his eyes suddenly dark and unreadable. Jack, caught up in his own grief, missed it.

"Busy," he spat out bitterly. "Standard answer for you, isn't it? When I said you abandoned me, you said pretty much the same thing. You bastard…"

"I was," the Doctor insisted, starting to feel more than a hint of irritation towards his old friend.

"Doing what?"

And despite the memories, the Doctor couldn't stop himself from sounding dismissive, though there was a darker tone barely concealed by that flippancy.

"Oh, you know, the usual. Saving the Earth, stopping badly named ships from dropping out of the sky…"

Ianto started a little, recalling the news reports of a spaceship that had very nearly crashed in London very early on Christmas Eve.

"That ship that nearly crashed into Buckingham Palace… You were on that?"

"Yes," the Doctor confirmed simply. For several seconds, the men all just stared at one another, and then Ianto saw a realisation dawn in Jack's eyes that he didn't fully comprehend.

"How many?" Jack asked sombrely.

"Too many," was the equally sombre reply.

"I'm sorry," Jack whispered, and the Doctor nodded and shoved his hands deep into his pockets.

"Yup."

Abruptly, Jack turned.

"We're going. C'mon, Ianto."

Ianto was visibly taken aback.

"What? But Jack…"

"I said, we're leaving!"

"Hold up just one second, Captain," the Doctor called out, and darted around to place himself squarely between Jack and the door. "We aren't finished yet."

Jack shook his head. The anger was gone, and his eyes were dull with a level of grief that the Doctor didn't understand.

"Yeah, we are. If you want to tell UNIT I've gone off the rails, then go ahead. I don't have the time or the strength to fight you over it."

He was almost to the door when the Doctor finally reacted, and darted around to block him once more. The Time Lord held up one hand, with the intention of placing it against Jack's chest to stop his advance towards the door, and his face darkened with suspicion when Jack jerked backwards with a short, sharp gasp.

"Jack, I don't care about UNIT right now," the Doctor said quietly. "I do, however, care about you, so you had better come clean and tell me what's wrong before I start jumping to conclusions."

Beside him, Ianto could almost feel Jack trying to psyche himself up, and he grasped his lover's arm in a gentle grip.

"Jack, you don't have to explain anything to him. Let's just go."

"I only want to help," the Doctor reassured them both. Ianto glared at him.

"He doesn't need your sort of help!" the young man exploded. "If you really wanted to help, you would have come when Jack really needed you!"

"Ianto…" Jack mumbled tiredly. The Doctor's frown deepened exponentially.

"Jack, what's he talking about?"

And Jack knew, even as he locked gazes with the Doctor, that he wouldn't be able to avoid telling his friend about it. He just didn't have the strength of will to fight him over it. Not here, though. Not while standing in the consol room of the TARDIS.

"Can we go somewhere else, please?" he asked, almost plaintively.

"My place?" Ianto offered, even though he was loathed to allow the Doctor anywhere near the sanctuary of his home. He could barely conceal his relief when Jack shook his head.

"No. I want to be able to sleep there, and it won't happen if I take these particular demons with me. I… I need somewhere neutral."

"Come with me," the Doctor offered, and headed towards the doorway that led deeper into the TARDIS. After a long moment of reluctant silence, Jack and Ianto followed.

* * *

"My room?" Jack asked tersely. "You think is neutral space?"

"This is the TARDIS, Jack. She chose it, not me, which suggests to me that you need a safe place, not a neutral one. She knows as well as I do that you always felt safest in here."

Jack's resolve crumbled. He was right, of course, and he knew better than to challenge the TARDIS.

"This was your room?" Ianto asked, his antipathy towards the Doctor momentarily forgotten as he was caught up in the wonder of his surroundings.

"It still is," the Doctor answered when Jack didn't. "It'll always be his room."

"Once a companion, always a companion, Doctor?" Jack asked bitterly, and the Doctor sighed.

"You weren't the first to be left behind, Jack, and you probably won't be the last. Admittedly, you were the only one left behind in _those_ circumstances, and I am sorry that it happened that way. I'm not going to stand here and say that I'd do it differently if I had the chance, though, because we both know that isn't true. And anyway, I thought we'd resolved this! You know I won't run away from you again. Why the sudden abandonment issues?"

Jack sank down onto the bed and took a few seconds to steady his breathing before he spoke.

"I was ambushed on Christmas Eve. Six men in total, and it was nothing to do with Torchwood. They stunned me and took me to an empty flat where they stripped me, tied me down and gagged me with barbed wire, tortured and raped me."

The Doctor looked horrified. He reached out towards Jack, only to withdraw his hand when Jack winced.

"Jack, I…"

"So you'll excuse me if I'm not exactly at my most communicative right now," he went on, cutting the Doctor off abruptly.

"Rassilon," the Doctor whispered, leaning back heavily against the wall. Ianto sat down beside Jack and gently put his arms around him – a gesture, the Doctor noted with interest, that Jack did not shie away from.

"You really didn't know?" Ianto asked, and the Doctor gave a wild shake of his head.

"No, I really didn't, I swear it. If I had, I would have been there to help you, Jack, one way or another… sabotaged space cruiser, or not."

Jack looked up slowly, his attention caught by the sheer vehemence in the Time Lord's voice.

"Thankyou," he whispered, rubbing self-consciously at his eyes. Slowly, the Doctor moved forward again.

"Is that what this was all about? You thought I knew, didn't you? You thought I knew, and deliberately stayed away."

Jack had no response to that and could only shake his head miserably. He was starting to feel deeply ashamed of his assumptions, and couldn't look his friend in the eye.

"Oh, Jack…" the Doctor murmured. He crouched down in front of the Captain, and reached out to cover Jack's cold, trembling hands with his own. "I told you, I'll never run from you again. If I'd known what was happening to you, I would have come running. Nothing could have kept me away."

"Can't you still do something to stop it from happening?" Ianto asked with a frown. "This is a time machine, isn't it?"

"It's not that simple, Ianto," Jack answered before the Doctor had a chance to. "What happened to me has become a fixed point in history. It can't be changed. Even if he were to go back, he couldn't do anything to stop it."

Ianto shook his head.

"No. That's not fair. There has to be something you can do! You owe him!"

"Oh, I know I do," the Doctor agreed solemnly. "More than you could possibly understand. But everything I do for you can only be from this point on. I'm so sorry, but it's the way it has to be."

While Ianto frowned, unsatisfied, Jack looked quizzically at the Doctor.

"You… aren't leaving?"

The Doctor squeezed Jack's hand again.

"No, I'm not. Not yet, anyway."

Ianto felt the tension bleed out of Jack at the Doctor's assurance. Not sure whether he was ready to accept Jack's suddenly acquiescence to the Time Lord, Ianto stood up.

"I think it's time we were going."

"Where to?" the Doctor queried.

"Home, to my flat," Ianto replied, quietly annoyed at the sudden, inexplicable feeling of inadequacy he was experiencing. The Doctor regarded them with a raised eyebrow.

"You could stay here, you know. You'd both be perfectly safe, and she wouldn't mind at all, either."

"She?" Ianto echoed. "There's someone else here?"

"No, he means the ship herself," Jack told him. "The TARDIS. She's alive and sentient, Ianto. Concentrate, and you should be able to sense her."

Ianto shut his eyes just briefly, and started a little at the gentle, soothing touch against his mind. When he opened his eyes, he didn't know whether to be annoyed or not to find both Jack and the Doctor grinning at him, as though in conspiracy. After taking a long moment to compose himself, he focused his attention on Captain.

"What do you want to do, Jack?"

He hoped that Jack would opt against staying, and couldn't quite hide his disappointment when Jack spoke in a shaky whisper.

"I'd like to stay."

It was a monumental effort for Ianto to keep his voice even, and he started to stand up.

"Very well."

"Wait, where are you going?" Jack asked anxiously. He reached out, catching hold of Ianto's hand and holding onto it in a death grip. "Don't go, Ianto."

Ianto stared first at Jack, and then at the Doctor.

"The invitation is open to you, too, Ianto Jones," the Doctor said sincerely. "And, I think our Jack would be a lot more settled to know that you're right here with him."

With some reluctance, Ianto sat back down. He couldn't deny the spark of pleasure he felt, though, when Jack sighed with relief at his acquiescence.

"You aren't going to…"

The Doctor raised an eyebrow bemusedly.

"Not going to what?"

"I think," Jack said somewhat hoarsely, "that what he means is, we're not going to wake up on a strange planet, are we?"

The Doctor chuckled.

"Oh, no. I promise you that we'll be staying right here. And as I said, you're both perfectly safe, and you can leave any time you want to."

Jack stared darkly at the Doctor.

"As opposed to earlier?"

"You were angry and borderline incoherent, Jack. I couldn't let you walk out without knowing what was wrong. Now I know, and I can take steps to ensure that UNIT leaves you alone."

"You'd do that?" Ianto asked in astonishment. "Even though we're Torchwood…?"

The Doctor smiled warmly at him.

"You may be Torchwood, Ianto Jones, but this is Jack that we're talking about, and he's more important to me than holding a grudge against a regime that's well and truly gone. If UNIT doesn't want to accept it, then that's too bad, but I promise you that they'll have to go through me to get to you."

He stood up, and moved back towards the door.

"I'll leave you be. Try to get some sleep, both of you. We'll talk again in the morning."

* * *

"You're still angry with him," Jack observed once the Doctor had gone. Ianto looked at him sceptically from where he stood on the far side of the room, examining Jack's original greatcoat, which he had been wearing when he first met the Doctor.

"And you're not?"

"Yes," Jack admitted freely. "It hurts… a _lot_… but I do understand now why he didn't come. Even if he'd known… and I don't think he did… he couldn't have helped me. What he did, in stopping that cruiser from crashing, that was more important."

"The good of the many?" Ianto wondered, and when Jack nodded, the younger man snorted derisively. "I'm sorry, but that's a load of bollocks. You're just as important as some bloody spaceship."

A smile graced Jack's lips.

"I appreciate that, but it doesn't change the fact that he had something more important to do."

"But it still hurts," Ianto argued. "You admitted it yourself, and I can sense it in you. You said, why can't you be the one he saves for once, and you were right. Why can't he do that for you? Even once?"

"He did save me once, though," Jack said sombrely. "A long time ago, he saved my life when he didn't have any reason to." He looked down at the floor. "I don't need saving anymore. It's time I accepted that, and quit waiting for a fairy tale ending that's never going to happen."

And yet, despite his words, Jack couldn't hide the bitter longing in his voice. There was a dip in the mattress, and a moment later Ianto was taking hold of his hand.

"Why don't we get out of here? Go back to mine? Just the two of us, Jack. _He_ can stay or go, but why should you put yourself in a position where you're open to being hurt?"

"Like I did with you?"

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, and Ianto flinched as though he'd been slapped. Regret filled Jack's face, and he tried to stammer an apology.

"Ianto, I… I'm sorry…"

Clamping down on his own hurt, Ianto took Jack's hand and held it gently.

"Don't apologise. It's true, after all."

"Still, I shouldn't," Jack mumbled uncomfortably. Ianto sighed, and decided to change his approach.

"If you want to stay, then we'll stay. But you're going to have to take off your coat and your boots, at the very least. I don't need you kicking me again."

Jack's indignant look was priceless, but he did as Ianto asked. Then, to Ianto's surprise, he continued to strip slowly until he was wearing only boxer shorts and a tee-shirt. Ianto regarded him in surprise.

"He was right. You do feel safe here."

There was no accusation in his tone. It was merely a simple observation. Jack nodded his agreement as he climbed into the large bed.

"After everywhere I've been, and everything I've done, this is the one place where nothing ever hurt me." He patted the bed space beside him. "Coming?"

Bemused, Ianto stripped off similarly to Jack, and climbed in beside him. They were just settling down when Jack spoke in a voice that was tinged with sadness.

"Not completely safe."

Ianto regarded him in puzzlement.

"What do you mean?"

Jack smiled, and Ianto suspected that in another time and place, it would have been one of the Captain's trademark leers.

"I never used to sleep in my shorts and tee-shirts. I never used to sleep in anything at all."

Ianto uttered a short laugh.

"Not just here, either."

An awkward silence fell. Ianto swallowed a sigh, and was about to try murmuring some soft words of comfort to Jack when he heard something new.

"Jack, what is that?" he asked in wonder, while at the same time hoping that Jack could actually hear it as well. Jack smiled again, and this time it was a more genuine smile.

"She's singing to us."

"She…? You mean the ship?"

"Listen," Jack murmured. "Shut your eyes, and listen to her."

Ianto did so at Jack's encouragement, and his breath caught at the calming sweetness of it. There were no comprehensible words, but Ianto soon realised that he didn't need any.

"It's beautiful," he whispered in awe, and Jack nodded, taking the liberty of snuggling in closer to him.

"I know. Just let it wash over you."

Ianto closed his eyes again to follow Jack's murmured instruction. Minutes slid by, and he felt himself becoming drowsy. He fought it only until Jack relaxed against him. Smiling sadly, Ianto finally gave in and allowed himself to follow Jack into slumber.

* * *

The Doctor leant against the wall outside Jack's room, listening to the song that the TARDIS was singing for their guests. He honestly had not heard anything so sweet and soothing since… well, since Rose had travelled with him. It bemused him slightly that she was reacting to tenderly towards the Captain when, not all that long ago, she had flown all the way to the universe to try and escape him.

He felt an indignant touch against his mind, and frowned.

"All right! I know I ran away from him, too. But you have to admit, the year One Hundred Trillion was a bit of an over-reaction. Imagine if I'd decided against exploring, and just left! Poor Jack would have been stranded… with the Master… and those cannibals…"

The Doctor shuddered, as did the TARDIS. Turning, he headed back to the consol room and began to type rapidly on the waiting keyboard.

"Torchwood files… Mm, not bad security, but not enough to keep me out, either. I'll bet you hijacked all the police reports, didn't you? But where…? Ha! There you are! There…"

He fell abruptly silent as horrific images filled the screen – images that were rivalled only by the Doctor's memories of the torture that Jack had endured during that year.

"Oh, Jack," he whispered in dismay. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

He covered his mouth and shut his eyes, but the images were already imprinted on his conscious mind. He felt the TARDIS touch his mind again, her grief for Jack's suffering echoing his own.

Clearing the pictures from the screen, the Doctor took a moment to read through a couple of the reports before moving away and sitting down with a thud.

"No wonder you're so angry," he murmured in dismay. "Trapped there for over twelve hours… Oh, my poor Jack…"

His decision was made almost before he realised it. No running away this time. Ianto had been right. He owed it to Jack to stay and help him in any way that he could – even if that meant bearing the brunt of Jack's anger and frustrations. He'd ignored Jack's grief and trauma after that long year in favour of nursing his own grief over the Master, and Jack had not uttered a syllable of complaint. He'd been nothing by supportive when he'd had every right and reason to express anger and disgust. Jack had been more of a friend to him than he honestly felt that he had ever been to Jack.

It was time, he decided, to return the favour.

* * *

_tbc..._


	22. Tentative Conversations

By the time dawn arrived, the Doctor had read everything that he could find that was in any way related to the assault on Jack, and he was beyond sickened. He had believed in past times that Jack often invited trouble with his openly flirtatious nature, but this...? This was unconscionable.

"It took nearly four days for my body to repair itself," a voice spoke unexpectedly behind him, and he turned to find Jack standing just behind him. The Captain was staring at the monitor with an expression that suggested he desperately wanted to be looking elsewhere, but couldn't drag his gaze away. "That's how bad it was. Owen had to keep sedating me, because the pain was more than I could stand."

"Jack, I..."

"You know I can still feel it? The barbed wire, I mean. I can still feel it around my wrists... my ankles... around my face. I try to sleep, and even when I manage to get to sleep, I can't rest, because my mind keeps reliving it. I thought what the Master did was bad enough, but I survived that, and I learnt how to cope with it so that it didn't affect everyone around me. This...? I can't do that with this, because every waking moment, every time I fall asleep, it's like I'm right back in that room. I can't get past it. I just don't know how."

The Doctor said nothing, knowing instinctively that saying sorry this time was a woefully inadequate response.

"They hurt me, Doctor," Jack whispered, finally tearing his gaze away from the monitor to look at the Time Lord. "In some ways, they hurt me worse than the Master ever did, because the Master never resorted to _that_. Oh, don't get me wrong. The Master raped my mind, left me screaming for hours until I didn't have a voice left, but he never raped my body. Those men, they never hesitated. They claimed that homosexual sex repulsed them, that it was an affront to their god, but then they did the very thing to me that they said was wrong! I don't understand it, Doctor. If they hated me so much, why didn't they just kill me? Why did they do the very thing that they said they hated?"

"I wish I had an answer for you, Jack," the Doctor replied softly. "I really do, but you know as well as I do that humans are equally capable of monstrous behaviour as they are of great courage. Unfortunately, this time, you found the worst kind."

Jack uttered a slightly hysterical laugh as he sank down onto the pilot's seat.

"I seem to have a knack for that. Suzie... Those lunatics in the Brecon Beacons... John..."

The Doctor was partially tempted to ask who John was, and then thought better of it. Later, perhaps, he told himself sternly. Much, _much_ later. Jack went on miserably, oblivious to the Doctor's musings.

"You know, I was actually looking forward to Christmas this year? I thought it was going to be nice. I should've known better. I don't think I'm meant to have a happy Christmas."

"Oh, don't be so melodramatic," the Doctor growled. "This was one year, Jack. What about last year? Disregarding the Valiant, of course..."

"Spent it watching a friend gas himself to death in Ianto's car, because he couldn't cope with life anymore."

The Doctor blinked, not quite sure how to respond to that.

"Oh..."

"Year before that, I was trapped in an apartment with a Yuuraghi warrior who thought the only way to regain his honour was to cut off certain vital parts of my anatomy to take back to his people."

It was with some effort that the Doctor didn't laugh. He could just imagine what Jack might have done to get himself into that situation to begin with.

"You should take a refresher course on alien customs, Jack. I would have thought you'd know that the Yuuraghi consider anything even remotely related to sex unclean."

Jack didn't crack a smile.

"You automatically assume I flirted with it? I'm not an idiot, Doctor. I know the Yuuraghi consider themselves a pure race. I would never have done anything that reckless."

The Doctor stared at Jack for long seconds before shaking his head decisively.

"No. I don't want to know."

Jack sighed, then, and rolled his eyes.

"Okay, so I might have had a slight lapse of memory, and mistaken the signals he was giving out. But seriously, one little kiss? That was _not_ worth what _he_ wanted to take."

The Doctor did laugh, then, but there was nothing disparaging in it.

"Only you, Jack."

Again, Jack didn't return the smile.

"Oh, and then there was the Christmas and New Year of Two-Thousand, when Alex killed everyone in the Hub, and then shot himself..."

"Okay, okay!" the Doctor cut him off abruptly. "I get the picture."

Jack had the grace to look mildly embarrassed by his outburst.

"Sorry. It's just, I don't really remember a time when I last had a happy Christmas. I never seemed to be in the right place to be involved in a real Christmas celebration. I really thought that was going to change this year. More fool me, I guess."

That time, the Doctor said nothing about melodramatics on Jack's part. He could see clearly that the Captain was not trying to over-dramatise the situation; he was merely stating the facts of a situation that clearly hurt him a lot, and the Doctor suspected that he knew why.

It all stemmed back to the few months that Jack had spent with him and Rose on the TARDIS. Those few months, short though they'd been, had given Jack a taste of truly belonging somewhere and the celebration of Christmas on Earth was the ultimate in belonging. Clearly, Jack hadn't felt as though he belonged anywhere since being left behind on Satellite Five. Although, he had Ianto, didn't he...?

"Dare I ask why you were visiting a pub on your own on Christmas Eve, and not with that young man of yours?" the Doctor asked.

At that, Jack suddenly went quiet, and the Doctor felt his curiosity pique.

"I get the feeling that there's a rather long and awkward story there."

"I need coffee," Jack mumbled, deliberately avoiding meeting the Doctor's gaze. The Doctor watched in surprise and concern as Jack all but bolted from the control room.

"Well," he said finally, "that was... unexpected."

Curiosity overcame all else, and he decided to go in search of Ianto, to see if he could possibly find out what it was that Jack had so obviously baulked at telling him.

* * *

Ianto emerged from the ensuite of Jack's room to find the Doctor ensconced in a chair in the far corner of the room, watching him with bright interest. Grateful that he had opted to dress in the ensuite, Ianto greeted the Doctor with a polite incline of his head.

"Good morning, Doctor. Was there something I can do for you?"

To Ianto's quiet irritation, a grin spread across the Doctor's face.

"You really don't like me, do you, Ianto Jones?"

Ianto frowned.

"That's inconsequential, sir."

"So you think. Go on, tell me. What is it about me that you don't like?"

Ianto clenched his jaw and turned away, his ingrained sense of propriety keeping him from voicing those very thoughts. The Doctor leaned forward in his chair, grinning widely.

"Oh, come on. You can say it. Go on, get it off your chest."

"May I remind you, sir, that this is _your_ ship?"

"Oh, she won't mind, either. She quite likes you, you know. She likes how well you've taken care of our Jack."

Pain clenched Ianto's heart, his stoic expression crumbled and he sank down onto the bed.

"Yes. I took such wonderful care of him that instead of coming home with me on Christmas Eve to get ready for spending Christmas Day with my family, he went to a pub where he was targeted for being gay, kidnapped, tortured and pack-raped. I as good as told Jack that I didn't want him around at Christmas, Doctor. It's my fault that he was attacked!" He paused to take a long breath before speaking in a shaky voice. "I've done a _wonderful_ job of looking after him, haven't I?"

By then, the Doctor's smile had faded entirely.

"I'd tell you not to be so hard on yourself, but I don't think you're going to listen to me, are you?"

Ianto stared at him with a bitter gaze, and when he spoke it was in a dull but deliberate tone.

"It's my fault."

"Inconsequential, Ianto Jones. Ooh, I quite like that word. Inconsequential. _In_conse_quen_tial. Rolls nicely off the tongue, don't you think? _Any_way, I can't exactly talk. It's my fault that he was left behind on a derelict satellite, and I daresay that of our individual indiscretions, mine was probably the worse betrayal."

Ianto diverted his gaze to the floor. All of a sudden, he found his mind flooded with images of seeing Jack in that hospital bed, and he couldn't help but voice his scepticism.

"I'm not so sure about that."

"Yes, well, perhaps we should both remember what's most important here."

"And what's that?"

Try as he might, Ianto couldn't keep himself from snapping at the Doctor. If the Time Lord noticed, though, he didn't let it show.

"That he forgives us both."

Ianto buried his face in his hands, sickened by the guilt that he just couldn't seem to shake.

"And what if I can't forgive myself? I hurt him so badly, Doctor."

"From what I've seen so far, you're doing a good job of trying to repair the damage. Give it time, Ianto Jones. Believe me, that's one thing that Jack has plenty of."

Slowly, Ianto raised his eyes to meet the Doctor's.

"What about you? Are you staying, or are you going?"

The Doctor smiled sincerely in reply.

"Staying, for now."

In all honesty, Ianto couldn't decide whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. He decided that, for Jack's sake, it was probably a good thing.

"Where is he?" Ianto wondered, suddenly feeling a fresh pang of guilt and worry for leaving Jack alone.

"In the kitchen," the Doctor replied. He paused, as thought listening to someone else, before frowning a little. "And apparently eating all of my triple chocolate ripple biscuits!"

Ianto couldn't hide a weary smile as the Time Lord strode from the room.

"That's my Jack," he murmured before hurrying to catch up.

* * *

Jack was just biting into the last remaining biscuit when the Doctor walked in, looking distinctly unimpressed.

"Enjoying those, Captain?" he asked tersely. Jack didn't hesitate to jam the rest of the biscuit into his already full mouth.

"S'good."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow at him in bemusement. He was fairly certain that he knew what Jack had just said, but what had actually come out had sounded more like 'mffsggud'. It didn't help that he sprayed biscuit crumbs across the table in the process.

"Charming, as ever," the Doctor said dryly. Jack paused to wash the rather excessive mouthful down with the coffee he'd made for himself, and then flashed a grin at the Doctor. A grin, the Time Lord mused, that was definitely missing its usual trademark spark.

"Sorry."

"Liar."

Jack shrugged.

"I'll buy you more. I'll buy you a whole cupboard full, if you want."

Rolling his eyes in mock exasperation, the Doctor sat down opposite Jack. Ianto, who had followed him in, chose to sit beside Jack.

"All right," the Doctor said quietly. "It's morning, and you're both free to leave, if that's what you want to do."

"But...?" Jack queried.

"But, I'd like to know just what is happening as far as the men who attacked you go. Please tell me you aren't just pretending it didn't happen?"

The smile that graced Jack's face was truly a bitter one.

"Doctor, do I look like I'm doing that?"

"No," the Doctor conceded, looking abashed. "Sorry?"

Ianto, however, spoke up.

"He did to begin with."

Jack glowered at Ianto, who shrugged a slight apology.

"Sorry, Cariad, but you were."

"Cariad?" the Doctor echoed in surprise. "That's fairly intimate. How long have you two been together?"

"Properly?" Jack asked. "Since about a month or so after you brought me home."

"Ah. So, before then...?"

"It was undefined," Ianto stated diplomatically. Jack chuckled mirthlessly.

"Right. That's one way of putting it."

"And now it's... _defined_?" the Doctor asked. Ianto reached out to close his hand over Jack's, and their fingers automatically laced together.

"We're working on it," Ianto said gently, and Jack nodded in wordless agreement.

"All right, then," the Doctor said with a quiet, inexplicable feeling of relief. "Now, though. You didn't answer my question. What's being done about the men who hurt you?"

"We're working with the police detective who was assigned to the case," Ianto answered, all the while keeping an eye on Jack to watch his reaction. His own unease in the Doctor's presence was rapidly disappearing in light of Jack's open displays of affection to him in front of the Time Lord. "Once we've located the men responsible, then we'll deal with them."

A cloud quickly gathered over the Doctor's face on hearing that.

"You'll _deal_ with them? And what, exactly, do you mean by that?"

"What he means," Jack growled with a sudden, fresh vehemence, "is that when we find them, we're going to retcon the sons of bitches and wipe their memories all the way back to their fucking childhoods."

"Jack..." the Doctor started to protest, but Jack cut him off with an explosive shout.

"No!" he snapped, glaring openly at the Doctor. "No, don't you say we can't do it. Don't you _dare_. Just be glad that's all I'm going to do to them, because believe me, there's a hell of a lot more that I want to do. A _hell_ of a lot more."

The Doctor stared across the table at Jack with a gaze that was laced with disappointment.

"I would have thought that wiping their memories is a method of punishment that you in particular would be loathed to use."

Bitter anger flooded Jack's face, and the Doctor felt quietly disturbed by the ease with which Jack's anger took hold.

"Why? Because the Time Agency stole two years of my own memories?"

Ianto started beside him, astonishment on his face, and the Doctor guessed that was a titbit of information that Jack had never shared.

"That's precisely why, Jack."

"There's a difference, though," Jack pointed out, his tone positively frigid. The Doctor's eyebrows shot up almost to his hairline.

"Really? This should be good."

He couldn't quite keep a lid on the sarcasm, and the glare he got from Jack almost made him regret it. Almost.

"I'm not going to wipe a portion of their memories," Jack told him. "I'm going to wipe their whole lives."

For a long moment, the Doctor found himself unable to breathe, even in spite of his respiratory bypass system.

"Jack, you can't..."

"Do _not_ tell me what I can or can't do. Considering what they did to me, they're damned lucky that that's all I plan on doing to them. Because I can't begin to tell you how much I want to kill each and every one of them."

The Doctor was starting to feel light-headed.

"I can't be party to this," he said tensely. Jack launched himself out of his seat so fast that his seat crashed over backwards, and the violent movement caused both the Doctor and Ianto to jump.

"Fine. I never asked you to come anyway. Go the hell back to UNIT, or wherever. Tell them whatever you want."

"Jack..."

"No! I don't care, just leave me alone!"

He stormed out, the very picture of indignant rage.

"Doctor," Ianto said tentatively, even as he started to get up to go after Jack. "You need to understand..."

"What?" the Doctor cut him off angrily. "That he's hell bent on playing God? He is planning to do to those men the very thing that was done to him! There is no justification for that!"

"What would you suggest, then?" Ianto asked. "Because we have very few other options here. They won't be punished by our justice system. We could never explain to a jury how Jack healed so fast."

"He could always try forgiving them, and letting it go," the Doctor suggested, but the moment the words were out of his lips, he knew he'd made a mistake. Ianto stared back at him in wide-eyed disbelief.

"I'm sorry... Did you just say forgive them? You honestly expect Jack to be able to just _forgive_ them? Are you out of your mind? Don't you know what they did to him?"

"Yes, I saw the reports," the Doctor admitted, trying not to wince at the memory of those shocking pictures, and all-too-graphic police reports.

"And you still think he should just... what... get _over_ it? A minute ago, you were telling him you hoped he wasn't trying to just bury it! What sort of hypocrite are you?"

"There's a difference between burying trauma, and moving past it," the Doctor argued. An example occurred to him, and he pounced on it. "He forgave what the Master did to him!"

The words were out before he realised that perhaps Jack hadn't actually told any of his people about the Master and the Valiant. There was no surprise or confusion in Ianto's expression, though, and the Doctor honestly wasn't sure whether to be relieved over that or not.

"Did he?" Ianto asked icily, his expression hardening. "Are you so certain of that?"

The Doctor faltered, suddenly unsure.

"Well... I..."

"Maybe," Ianto said tersely as he moved towards the door, "he's just kept his opinions to himself out of a misguided loyalty to you!"

"Oi, that's a bit uncalled for," the Doctor protested, but Ianto refused to back down.

"What's uncalled for are your expectations on Jack when he's struggling to cope from one day to the next! Everyone seems to so easily forget that it only happened on Christmas Eve, and that was only seven days ago now! Six days since he was found by the police! He's spent nearly two hundred years trying to live up to what he thought were your expectations of him, even after you'd abandoned him! You are in _no_ position to dictate to him, Doctor. And if you can't offer him the support he needs, then perhaps you should just take your time ship, and leave."

Ianto stormed out, not giving the Doctor an opportunity to respond. The Time Lord watched the young man go, his mouth agape with shock.

"Well..." he started to say in astonishment, only to be brought up short by a distinctly unhappy response from the TARDIS, pushing him to go after the two of them. Grimacing, the Doctor reluctantly conceded, and hurried after his one-time former companion.

* * *

_tbc..._


	23. Damaged

Jack left the TARDIS as quickly as he could without actually breaking into a run. He wanted to preserve what little dignity he had left, and that would have been shot to hell if he'd run away like a little kid having a tantrum. More to the point, though, he didn't want the Doctor to know just how hurt he really was by the apparent rejection.

He'd hoped, even just briefly, that maybe the Doctor would have understood, and supported him. Instead, he found himself being judged, and coming up short. Again.

Damaged goods, he thought miserably. In the end, that was exactly what he was, no matter what anyone else tried to tell him. Just damaged goods, not worth a damned thing...

He ignored the whispered concern of the TARDIS, and all but threw himself against her doors, as though expecting resistance. Jack struggled to feel relieved rather than hurt when the doors opened easily, allowing him to stumble out into the unexpectedly bright sunshine of the Cardiff morning.

Whether or not Ianto had followed him, Jack didn't know. He just needed to get out of there...

"Jack? Where on earth did you come from?"

He looked around in a daze to find Kathy Swanson standing there, watching him with a mixture of concern and confusion. When he didn't answer, she took him gently by the elbow and guided him over to the paving stones that lined the water tower, urging him to sit down.

"You're so pale," she murmured as she rubbed his back in a soothing manner. "Are you all right?"

"Why are you doing this?" he asked suddenly, the words out of his mouth before he could think twice. The movement of her hand stilled for just a moment, and then continued.

"Why am I doing what?"

He looked sideways at her, and she almost recoiled from the bitter anguish that she saw in his face.

"Being kind to me."

She couldn't hide her bemusement, and didn't even try.

"What, you don't think you deserve kindness?"

"It wasn't that long ago that you told me I as good as responsible for the murder of Mark Briscoe and his wife, remember?"

A sigh escaped her.

"Right. Well, circumstances have changed a little since then."

"Yeah," Jack muttered dismally. "Now I'm the victim."

He felt her tense beside him, and when he hazarded a glance at her, he was taken aback to see genuine irritation on her face, bordering on anger.

"Jack Harkness," Kathy said in a forcibly calm voice, "you're an idiot. If that were the reason, do you really think I'd be here right now?"

He shrugged, not sure how to answer.

"I wouldn't," she went on. "It'd be some poorly paid sap from Victims' Services chasing after you, and not me."

She paused, eyeing him intently, but Jack remained sullenly silent. Kathy sighed again, and resuming rubbing his back.

"Jack, listen to me. Yes, you fell victim to a group of prejudiced thugs, but you are only a victim for as long as you allow yourself to be."

"You make it sound so simple," he said, his voice strongly tinged with sarcasm, and she found herself resisting an urge to thump him.

"It's not. You know it as well as I do. But you have to stop trying to kid yourself that you're fine, when it's pretty damned obvious that you're not. Now, tell me the truth, Jack. You aren't coping, are you?"

He stared down at his hands as his eyes began to burn, and felt a rush of anger at how easily the tears seemed to come. When he answered, though, it was in a soft whisper that did little to hide his misery.

"No."

She closed her hand very lightly over his, taking extra care to avoid contact with his wrists.

"You know, that's a pretty big step in itself, being able to admit that."

A shadow fell across them, and she looked up to see Ianto standing there. Beside him was a lanky bloke in a brown suit that she didn't recognise. Ianto crouched down in front of Jack, worry etched onto his face, while the newcomer observed in silence.

"Jack?"

"If you ask me if I'm okay..."

A wry smile quirked Ianto's lips for just a brief moment before his amusement faded into worry once more.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Jack looked past him to the Doctor.

"You're still here."

It was almost an accusation, but the Doctor didn't rise to the bait.

"Mm, I am, aren't I?"

"Why? Haven't you got enough ammunition for UNIT yet? What do you want, a complete breakdown? Want to be able to go back and tell them I really have lost it, and to start sending in the troops? Is that it?"

"Stop it, Jack," the Doctor chided him gently. "I told you I'd do what I can to keep UNIT off your back, and I meant it. I won't let them harass you."

"And what about what we're planning to do?"

"I can't say that I agree with it," the Doctor admitted quietly, "but... this is your battle, and it's your life. I can't dictate to you, Jack. I gave up that right when I abandoned you. I won't walk away from you again, though, and I'd like to stay and help, if you'll let me."

Jack looked away from the Doctor to Ianto, who surprised himself by nodding. Little though the Welshman personally liked the Doctor being around, it still meant extra support that Jack so desperately needed.

"Thankyou," Jack whispered finally, and it was hard at that moment to tell who was the more relieved – Jack or the Doctor.

"Excuse me," Kathy spoke up finally. "Who are you, exactly?"

"I'm the Doctor," he replied, shoving his hands deep into his pockets, rocking back on his heels and peering at her over the rims of his glasses. Kathy raised her eyebrows.

"The Doctor," she echoed flatly.

"That's right. The Doctor."

Kathy looked back at Jack.

"You have very odd friends. You know that, don't you?"

A small, but genuine smile graced Jack's face.

"You have no idea, Kathy." He got to his feet, dusting off both his knees and his rear as he did so. "We might as well go inside." He eyed the Time Lord ruefully. "I'd ask you to try and keep your hands to yourself, but that would be kinda pointless, wouldn't it?"

The Doctor responded with a big, eager grin that had the former time agent groaning and shaking his head.

"C'mon. We should all be able to fit onto the lift."

"Oh, this is going to be interesting," Kathy snorted. The Doctor peered curiously at her.

"Sorry, and you are...?"

Ianto exchanged a bemused look with Jack, and spoke quickly.

"Doctor, this is Kathy Swanson. She's the detective who has been working with us to find the men who assaulted Jack."

"Ah..."

"Actually," Kathy said with sudden unease as they crowded onto the paving stone, "there's something you need to know."

"Wait until everyone's here," Jack told her. "Then you won't have to repeat yourself."

She appeared less than certain, but conceded nonetheless. It was at that moment that Myfanwy chose to glide overhead, crying out a greeting to her two favourite humans. The Doctor's eyes widened, and he very nearly fell off the lift as he craned his head to watch the prehistoric creature. It was only Ianto's quick thinking in grabbing the Time Lord around the waist that kept him in place.

"Oh, that is beautiful!" the Doctor burst out enthusiastically, momentarily oblivious to Ianto's arm around him. "Where did you find her?"

"I didn't," Jack answered. "Ianto did. We caught her together. You might say it was our first date."

Ianto rolled his eyes, and released his grip on the Doctor as the lift settled on the floor of the Hub.

"Just us, a derelict warehouse and a carnivorous dinosaur. It was very romantic."

"Well, actually," the Doctor started to say, "she's not technically a dinosaur…"

"I know," Ianto cut him off, perhaps a little too abruptly. "It's just simpler." He turned to Jack and spoke before the Doctor had an opportunity to say anything more. "Owen, Gwen, Toshiko and Tish should be arriving within half an hour, but I'll get you your coffee now, if you like."

"Thankyou," Jack murmured. "That would be great."

Ianto then turned to the two visitors.

"Caramel latte for you, Detective, and Doctor…?"

"Couldn't manage a nice cup of tea, by any chance?" the Doctor asked hopefully. Ianto offered him what he hoped was a gracious smile.

"I think I can manage that. Excuse me."

"He really doesn't like me very much at all," the Doctor mused as Ianto retreated to the coffee machine.

"I'm sorry," Jack apologised quietly as he led them through the Hub to the conference room. "He's taking out on you his anger at me for leaving. We never really did work through that."

The Doctor, however, shook his head.

"You're a little off the mark, Jack. He's definitely angry, but it's not you that he's angry at. And as for me… I think he's angry at me for what he perceives I did to you."

"You didn't make me immortal, Doctor," Jack pointed out.

"No… but I did run away from you and leave you behind on Satellite Five as a result of it. You told him about that, I assume?"

Jack looked mildly uncomfortable, but didn't attempt to apologise.

"Yes, I told him. He deserved to know."

"Yes, well, I think that's what he's holding against me right now. It isn't you hurting him by running away that's got him angry at me. It's me hurting you by running away that's got him angry."

Jack blinked, taken aback by the revelation. The Doctor smiled sadly.

"He loves you, Jack. Whatever you do, don't take that for granted."

Jack's expression clouded over abruptly.

"I'm not the one who did that."

The Doctor looked automatically to the only other person in sight, to Kathy, but she looked as baffled as he felt.

"Jack…?" Kathy asked quietly. He shook his head, as though shaking himself out of a particularly unpleasant daydream.

"The others will be here soon. We'll go through everything then."

* * *

Jack left the Doctor and Kathy in the conference room to seek out Ianto, who seemed to have taken refuge in his coffee machine. He hovered on the other side of the monstrosity, watching the young man work his magic for nearly five minutes before Ianto finally realised he wasn't alone, and looked up.

"Part of me wants to tell him to get lost," Jack admitted quietly, "and part of me is terrified he's going to run off on me again. The part that wants him to stay is stronger."

Ianto raised an eyebrow at him, silently noting the way that Jack kept the machine between them, like a kind of buffer.

"Are you apologising for that?"

They stared at each other in momentary silence before Jack spoke uncomfortably.

"Do… Do you want me to?"

Ianto grimaced, and abandoned the coffee to walk around to Jack. He stopped just short, aware of the way that Jack shuffled back a couple of tiny steps to keep a minimum distance between them. He wasn't sure that Jack even realised he'd done it, and decided not to draw attention to it. At the same time, though, he couldn't help but wonder what had been said or done to set Jack back to point where he didn't want to be touched.

"No, you don't need to apologise for it. I understand why you want him here… but that doesn't mean I have to like it."

"What are you really upset about?" Jack wondered, peering quizzically at Ianto. "Him leaving me behind, or me leaving you behind for him?"

Ianto visibly flinched, and Jack wondered how close to the mark he really was.

"Neither…" Ianto tried to protest, but it sounded unconvincing to Jack's ears. He hesitated just momentarily before stepping in to close the distance between them. Jack reached up to stroke the Welshman's cheek with a hand that trembled badly, and Ianto's eyes fluttered closed at the gentle contact.

"I don't expect you to like him," Jack murmured. "I guess I can't even expect you to respect him."

Ianto's eyes flew open again.

"What? No! Jack, you've got it wrong. I do respect him. How could I not? But no… I don't like him very much right now, and I'm not sure that I ever will. I'm sorry if that hurts you, but I won't lie to you about it. No more lies, right?"

Jack nodded breathlessly, torn between disappointment and relief.

"Right. I just… I need you to understand that you're as big a part of my life now as he is, and I love you both, but in different ways."

Ianto smiled affectionately, and leaned in to brush a soft kiss across Jack's lips.

"Careful, Jack. You're starting to sound like a romance novel."

Jack grimaced.

"God forbid."

The proximity alarm suddenly rang, followed closely by the cog door rolling back. Ianto smiled wryly as he gently disengaged himself from Jack and returned to the task of making coffee.

"Saved by the bell. That'll be Tosh."

"Go on," Ianto told him. "I'll be up with the coffee shortly."

Jack went, rubbing gingerly at his wrists once more. Ianto watched him with growing unease, conscious of the fact that Jack's incessant rubbing of his wrists had eased off within the last twenty-four hours, suggesting a gradually more settled frame of mind. That he'd started it up again warned Ianto that Jack was once again beginning to struggle. He only hoped that Tosh, Gwen and Owen didn't react too badly to the presence of the Doctor, because the last thing Jack needed right then was anymore conflict.

* * *

_tbc..._


	24. Slippage

Ianto was half right. The proximity alarm signified the arrival not only of Toshiko, but also Gwen and Owen. Not surprisingly to Jack, Owen greeted him with a flippant remark and a surreptitious look, while Gwen was a little more open in her concern. Jack was immensely grateful, though, that she made no attempt to make physical contact with him. She appeared to have learned her lesson from the other evening – especially judging by the black eye she had not quite been able to cover up with makeup.

He supposed he should have felt guilty about that, but he simply didn't have the energy. The strain was beginning to build within him again despite the presence of the Doctor. The peace he'd felt whilst housed safely within the TARDIS was already gone, and he found himself desperately wanting to be back there, where he knew he was truly safe.

At the same time, he felt increasingly angry with himself at his perceived weakness; that he couldn't just suck it up and get on with life. He had such a long, long time ahead of him, with potentially unimaginable torments, and it distressed him no end to think that every time he was attacked it might devastate him afresh.

Fingertips brushing against his hand startled him out of his ever darkening thought process, and he jerked away from the contact in momentary panic before his vision cleared and he found Toshiko standing in front of him. She stared up at him, wide-eyed and afraid she'd done the wrong thing. Steeling his nerves, Jack smiled down at her, but he couldn't bring himself to touch her to reassure her, and he hated himself for that.

"What is it, Toshiko?"

"When we were coming in... Up on the Plass..."

"What she's trying to say," Owen piped up, "is that there's big blue box up near the invisible lift that wasn't there when we left yesterday."

Jack sucked in a long breath.

"I know. It's the TARDIS."

Silence met his statement. Then, Gwen took a tentative step towards him.

"The TARDIS?"

"It's his ship," Jack answered. His heart was pounding painfully, and he was starting to feel physically sick.

"_His_ ship?" Owen echoed, a frown creasing his face. "When you say 'his', you mean him, don't you? That bastard who ditched you on that satellite?"

Jack felt his stomach roll unpleasantly. Yep, he was definitely feeling sick. Maybe bringing the Doctor into Torchwood hadn't been such a good idea after all. The thought of his team clashing with the Time Lord was beyond painful, even if it was on his behalf.

"Yes, it's the Doctor," Ianto stated, noting how pale Jack had gone. "No, he didn't know what had happened to Jack, but he does now and he's offered to stay and help. And Jack wants him here."

The last sentence was said with a distinct edge, as though Ianto himself wasn't happy with the situation as it stood, but wasn't going to argue the point.

Silence met the blunt statement, and Owen, Gwen and Tosh exchanged veiled looks. Finally, Owen shrugged.

"If you want him to stay, then it's okay by us. Right, girls?"

His tone brooked no argument, and neither Gwen nor Tosh had any intention of arguing.

Jack couldn't help but feel some amusement at the thought of Owen, of all people, trying to keep the peace, but he had no intention of pressing him over it. He was just grateful for their acceptance, however thinly veiled it was.

"So, where is he, then?" Owen asked. Jack decided to actively ignore the slight edge in the medic's tone.

"Upstairs in the conference room, probably talking Kathy's ear off," he answered. "We'd better get up there, and get the introductions over with."

"Go ahead, Jack," Ianto told him when Jack glanced back at him. "I'll finish making the drinks, and bring them up."

Nodding his acquiescence, Jack led the others up and into the conference room.

* * *

"So this is Torchwood," the Doctor said speculatively as they entered. Owen didn't hesitate.

"So you're the infamous Doctor that Torchwood was established to combat," he retorted. The Doctor snorted.

"Complete misunderstanding on Queen Victoria's part. I saved her from a werewolf, and what does she do? She knights me, and then banishes me! And then sets up an entire institute dedicated to capturing me! Honestly, some people just don't know how to just say thankyou."

He turned from Owen, to Gwen, and finally to Toshiko. A grin lit up his face at the sight of her.

"Well, how about that. Never thought I'd see a familiar face in a place like this. Well, aside from Jack, obviously. Dr Sato, isn't it?"

Tosh shifted uncomfortably, her cheeks flushing a dull red.

"Actually, it's just 'Miss'. I'm not actually a doctor."

"How do you know Tosh?" Gwen asked, finally finding her voice. Jack spoke up with a faint smile.

"London, a spaceship crashes into Big Ben. The pilot turned out to be a genetically altered pig, courtesy of a family of aliens called the Slitheens. It was supposed to be Owen who went to check that out, but I believe he was indisposed, and Toshiko kindly covered for him."

Owen couldn't possibly miss Jack's tone, and he looked up at him awkwardly.

"You... knew about that?"

"Yes, but Toshiko didn't tell me. Suzie did. I'm not sure even now why I let it slide, but one thing I do know is that you _still_ owe Tosh for covering your scrawny ass."

The Doctor, for his part, was watching Jack curiously.

"Tell me, Jack, did you send one of your own team and not go yourself because you didn't think there was anything to it?"

Jack turned to face the Doctor with a bitter smile.

"No, Doctor, I sent one of my team in my place because you were there. I knew about it kind of in advance, depending on your perspective. Rose told me all about it one evening on the TARDIS, not long after you took me on board. She seemed to get a particular kick out of telling me about her mum slapping you. Anyway, I didn't know exactly when it was supposed to have happened, but when it did, I knew you'd be in London. I also knew I couldn't be there, because you and Rose hadn't met me at that point in your timelines. But you have no idea how hard it was for me to stay here, knowing you were in London."

"I might," the Doctor murmured, reaching out to grasp Jack's shoulder reassuringly.

"Um, excuse me," Gwen spoke up with a conspicuous cough. "But, is anyone else confused here?"

"Count me in," Kathy said, speaking for the first time since Jack had entered with his team.

"Time," the Doctor said, waving his hands about. "It's not just a straight line, you see, and Jack is a perfect example of how complicated it can be. Wibbly wobbly, timey wimey... You know."

"I doubt it," Owen retorted.

"Example," Jack said as he motioned for them all to sit. "The Cardiff earthquake that cracked open the Plass."

"You mean the one that happened the day that you locked us all down inside the Hub?" Owen asked bluntly. "The same day that Mayor Margaret Blaine disappeared?"

Jack nodded, rising to his feet and pacing back and forth behind his chair.

"That's the one. The reason I locked us all in that day was because there was another, younger version of me running around Cardiff, and I couldn't risk any of us running into him.

"You mean, it was you before what happened on that satellite?" Ianto asked. He had come in just in time to hear the last few sentences spoken. Jack nodded.

"Right. Me, before I became immortal. The me that was in Cardiff that day was one hundred percent mortal human, and I couldn't risk anything or anyone interfering in my own personal timeline. It would have been disastrous."

"Well, I don't know about anyone else," Owen said in a falsely cheerful tone, "but I could do with something a little stronger than coffee right now."

"Never underestimate the power of a well-made cup of coffee, Owen," Jack chided him, sighing with relief as he took a sip from his own mug. "Especially when Ianto's done the brewing."

"Oh, and this tea is magnificent!" the Doctor burst out enthusiastically. "Best cup of tea I've had in a long time! Brilliant!"

"Excuse me," Kathy growled, starting to lose what little patience she still had. "Can we please get to the business at hand?"

Jack nodded, if somewhat reluctantly.

"Okay. I guess the first item of business is finding Chris Kendle."

"We've already found him," Kathy said abruptly. Jack stared at her.

"You have him in custody again?"

"No. Jack…"

Jack's face darkened rapidly. He had little patience left, and no time to be dancing around any issues.

"Will you just spit it out, and say what you mean? You either have him, or you don't."

Kathy sighed faintly, her shoulders slumping. It was painfully obvious to all of them that whatever it was she had to tell them, she hadn't wanted to say it like this. Jack being Jack, though, had forced her hand, and she had no choice but to simply blurt it out.

"We do have Kendle, in our morgue."

Jack froze, his already pale face losing another couple of shades.

"What?"

"This is what I was trying to tell you when we were outside, Jack. We found Chris early this morning. He's dead."

"How?" Ianto asked, acutely aware of the way Jack had suddenly started clawing at his own wrists in a violent rubbing gesture. Again, Kathy hesitated, and Ianto felt his stomach churn.

No… Please, God, no…

When Kathy spoke, it was in a significantly softer voice, as though she was hoping to lull him enough with her tone that he wouldn't hear or comprehend the actual words.

"We found him in the same place we found you, Jack… in the same condition."

Jack's knees buckled, and it was only quick action from Ianto and Owen that saved him from a potentially nasty fall.

"Easy, mate," Owen murmured as they lowered Jack safely to the floor. "Gwen! Get a glass of water, now."

"I'm fine," Jack mumbled, trying to wave them off, but any effect his protests might have had were negated when he began to throw up violently, soiling both his shirt and pants.

"Shouldn't have had all of those biscuits this morning, you silly old fool," Ianto murmured as he physically turned Jack around, and snagged the paper bin from close by.

"I didn't want to have to say it like that," Kathy said regretfully. The Doctor came to stand beside her as Jack's team scrambled to help their Captain.

"When you say the same condition… do you mean the exact same?"

Kathy hesitated, looking at him questioningly.

"There were a couple of differences as a matter of fact."

"What differences? It could be important."

"I know it's important," she countered. "But this is hardly the time to be talking about it."

"They didn't rape him, did they?"

Both the Doctor and Kathy looked in surprise to where Jack slumped on the floor against Ianto, ashen-faced and trembling. He'd ceased throwing up, but it didn't look as though it would take much to set him off again. Jack stared up at Kathy with eyes that she could only describe as haunted.

"Did they? He wasn't raped. Tell me!"

"No," she confirmed softly. "He wasn't. He was beaten to death, but not raped or sexually assaulted in any way."

"They were just shutting him up," Gwen speculated. "He talked to the police, and he was the weakest link, so they had to shut him up…"

"But they didn't put him in the same category as me," Jack finished off dully. "They didn't feel they needed to teach him the same lessons."

"Jack…" Ianto murmured, only to start when Jack suddenly pulled away from him.

"Don't. Don't say it. Just… don't."

Ianto sighed softly, and got up to dispose of the contents of the bin.

"Try and drink some water, sir. It'll help to get rid of the aftertaste. Then, if you'd care to go and take a quick shower, I'll bring fresh clothes to the bathroom for you."

Once Ianto had gone, Owen turned to glower at the Captain.

"Damn it, Jack, I know you're struggling, but can't you at least acknowledge that he's trying? And try to quit yanking him up and down like a fucking yo-yo?"

Jack eyed Owen bitterly.

"What happened to one step at a time?"

"That's all well and good, mate, as long it isn't one step forward, and five steps back. Now, c'mon. Get your arse up off the floor, and we'll go get you cleaned up. All right?"

Jack looked around the room, torn between humiliation over yet another display of weakness, and simply not giving a damn anymore. His heart and mind teetering dangerously towards the latter, Jack trudged silently out of the room after the medic.

* * *

"You really think I'm being unfair to Ianto?" Jack asked tonelessly as Owen turned on the shower for him. Owen glanced back at him briefly, his expression guarded.

"I think you don't know whether you're coming or going at the moment, and Ianto's an easy target for your frustration. Okay, he fucked up. He knows it, you know it, and we know it. But how is it going to help you to be snarling at him every time you get embarrassed or stressed?"

"I don't want to," Jack admitted miserably as he slowly stripped off his soiled clothes. "I don't like feeling angry like this at all, but I can't help it! One minute I feel fine, and the next I want to just beat the hell out of something. I hate this, Owen. I feel like I'm losing my mind."

Owen sighed.

"You're not losing your mind, Jack. I promise you that. Everything you're feeling… the anger, the frustration, the helplessness… It's all normal, mate."

"How do you know?"

Owen looked up at Jack as the Captain hesitated in stepping into the shower. The question wasn't asked accusingly and, looking into Jack's red-rimmed eyes, Owen only saw a man desperate for answers to his own grief.

"My cousin was raped, Jack. She went through everything you're going through. The mood swings, all of it. So yeah, I do understand. And I understand that as much as you think you've forgiven Ianto, you're still angry at him, and you probably still blame him."

Jack opened his mouth to protest that last bit, only to find he couldn't. In the end, his shoulders slumped and he spoke unhappily.

"I don't want to blame him."

It was a pathetic effort, and he knew it, but it was also the best he could offer right at that moment. He dared a glance at Owen, half expecting to see judgement in the other man's face. Instead, he saw only understanding.

"I know you don't want to, but it doesn't change the fact that you do anyway. Don't you?"

Jack didn't answer. Finally, Owen spoke with exaggerated irritation.

"For fuck's sake, Jack, get in the bloody shower. Not all of us get a kick out of seeing you in your birthday suit."

Jack managed a weak smile, and disappeared into the shower to clean himself up. Owen had just bagged the dirty clothes when Ianto entered, carrying a fresh change of clothes, as promised.

"How is he?" Ianto asked hesitantly. Owen shrugged.

"Angry. Confused. Frustrated. Take your pick."

"Angry… with me?"

Owen raised an eyebrow.

"Still on that guilt trip, then?"

"Damn it, Owen…"

"No, really, you two amaze me, Ianto. You really do. I don't think either of you realise just how perfect a match you really are. I ought to lock you both in a bloody room, so you can wallow together. Fucking hell…"

The curtain shielding the shower cubicle from the rest of the bathroom was suddenly yanked back, and Jack glowered out at the both of them.

"Hey! I can hear you!"

"That's great, Jack," Owen retorted, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "I was really worried about your hearing for a minute, there. Now get your arse back in there and finish washing that crap off yourself. We were talking about you, not to you."

A slightly more genuine grin flashed across Jack's face, and he disappeared back behind the shower curtain. Owen waited a moment before turning his attention back to Ianto and speaking in a deliberately low voice.

"You've got to deal with this, Ianto. Both of you do. Maybe not now, but soon, because it's not going to get any easier to ignore the longer it goes on."

"I know," Ianto admitted softly. Owen nodded.

"Just do something, before the shit really hits the fan."

* * *

_tbc..._


	25. A Tense Interlude

**Author's Notes:**

_No - I haven't forgotten this story, and I apologise sincerely for the lack of updates, and for the shortness of this chapter given the length of time since the last update._

My muse got severely side-tracked. We are attempting to get back on board with this story, and the next chapter shouldn't be too far away. (And by that I mean days, not months - I swear it!) Until then, though, I offer this short interlude to assure everyone I am still working on this.

Yes, more angst for Jack, I'm afraid....

* * *

"So… how, exactly, do you know Jack?" Kathy asked as she came to stand beside the Doctor who, in turn, was thoroughly engrossed in examining an oddly shaped piece of metal that seemed to change colour depending on which way you turned it.

"Hmm?" he said distractedly. She eyed him critically, not entirely sure whether he honestly wasn't paying attention, or whether it was a pathetic attempt to brush off a question that he simply didn't want to answer. She tried again, speaking a fraction louder just in case he did happen to be hard of hearing.

"I said, how do you know Jack?"

He straightened up, then, and turned to at her directly, with one eyebrow raised slightly more than the other.

"It's complicated."

She couldn't quite help the wry smile that quirked her lips.

"Everything about Captain Harkness seems to be complicated. When I first met him, he was a pain in the arse, and nothing much has changed."

It was the Doctor's turn to smile wryly.

"Oh, he can be that. He is a good man, though."

Kathy conceded with a nod.

"Yes. He is certainly that. You haven't answered my question, though..." She paused as he gave her a sidelong look before going back to the colour-changing metal. "And somehow I don't think you're going to, are you?"

Again, the Doctor paused in his examinations to regard her carefully.

"I met Jack in the past, lost him in the future, and found him again in the present."

Kathy grimaced at the deliberately vague answer.

"Fine. You could have just said you didn't want to talk about it. I was just hoping that someone here could help me to understand him a bit better, because right now I don't. I don't even know what to believe about everything they've told me about him. I mean, this rubbish about him not being able to die..."

"Oh, he can die," the Doctor answered passively. "He just doesn't stay dead for very long."

She rubbed at her eyes in exasperation.

"You too? I've already heard that from Mr Jones and Dr Harper."

"And you still don't believe it," the Doctor concluded.

"Please! How can you honestly expect me to believe a story like that? You're basically saying that Jack is immortal!"

The Doctor said nothing, but raised an eyebrow again. Kathy shook her head fiercely.

"No. No, it's insane. I can't believe it."

"And yet, you know how severely Jack was injured in the attack," the Doctor persisted. "You saw him with your own eyes, didn't you?"

She swallowed hard.

"I was called to the crime scene," she admitted in a low voice after glancing around surreptitiously to ensure that Jack was nowhere nearby to overhear the conversation. "They hadn't been able to get him out when I got there. I honestly thought he was going to die. I'm still amazed that he didn't."

"Mm," the Doctor mused. "He might think it would have been better if he had died. It would certainly have meant a quicker recovery time."

"You really believe it?" Kathy asked incredulously. The Doctor regarded her soberly.

"I was there on the satellite in the year Two Hundred-One Hundred when Jack was made immortal, Detective. I assure you that there is nothing imagined about it."

"The year _when_? No, don't answer that. I don't want to know."

The Doctor didn't even try to stop the grin that spread over his face.

"No, you probably don't. I'm a Time Lord, and Jack's timeline gives me a headache. But it is true, that's he's immortal. Well, when I say immortal, I mean that comparatively speaking. But basically, he can't die, not permanently. I hope you never have to actually witness it, though. It's not a pleasant sight."

"Because I'm wrong?"

Both the Doctor and Kathy turned sharply at the unexpected voice behind them. Jack stood there, wearing clean clothes and his hair still damp from showering. He was smiling, but it was a brittle sight, and his tone lacked any warmth to suggest he was just kidding. Kathy couldn't help wincing at the sight, but the Doctor didn't hesitate to respond. Neither advancing nor retreating, he looked Jack directly in the eye as he spoke.

"No, not because you're wrong, Jack. Because I know full well that reviving is just as painful for you as dying, and I hate seeing you suffer."

Jack's expression relaxed just a fraction, and the Doctor felt a wave of relief wash through him. So often, he seemed to blurt out the wrong things at the wrong moment. He was grateful that, this time at least, he seemed to have gotten it right for once.

"Ready to continue, Captain?"

In answer, Jack turned to stare down Kathy.

"How soon will the scene be cleared?"

The detective stared back at him, confused by the odd question.

"What do you mean?"

"The scene," Jack repeated. His voice rose just a fraction in volume, betraying his agitation to all those within hearing range. "The crime scene where I… where they…"

"Where Kendle died?" she said quietly. Jack nodded mutely. Kathy glanced around to see the rest of the Torchwood team approaching slowly, identical looks of concern on each of their faces. She could sympathise. She felt the exact same concern.

"Probably by this evening," she admitted. "But…"

"We're going to check it out as soon as all the police are gone," Jack announced in a tone that brooked no argument. Owen, however, had never been one to shie away from an argument.

"Jack, that's a fucking stupid thing to do, and you bloody well know it."

Jack glared right back at Owen, and folded his arms across his chest imposingly.

"And why is that, Owen? Because I'm not in my right mind? Because I might freak out or have a break down?"

Owen took a slight step forward.

"Because there is absolutely nothing we can learn by going there, Jack. You know it's the truth."

Jack was unrelenting, though.

"We're going. That's final." He turned back to Kathy, and it was all she could do not to cringe away from the near wild look in his eyes. "I want to know when it's clear."

She nodded, agreeing automatically, despite her quiet belief that Owen was right. Jack was walking on a razor edge right then, and she was determined that she would not be the one to push him over the edge.

"I'll let you know as soon as I hear."

Nodding his satisfaction, Jack turned to head for his office, only to nearly run headlong into the Doctor.

"What?" Jack growled uncomfortably. The Doctor eyed him critically for a long moment before speaking.

"I'll support whatever decisions you make, Jack, but are you sure it's the right choice for you to be going back to the place where you were attacked?"

"I was attacked outside the Griffin Arms Pub."

"Semantics, Jack. You know what I mean."

Dropping his gaze, Jack stepped swiftly around the Doctor.

"We're going there tonight. That's final."

* * *

"Jack…"

The Captain didn't look up as he practically threw himself into the chair behind his desk and began to rifle through the growing pile of paperwork.

"Leave me alone, Ianto. I don't need you arguing with me, too."

Ianto didn't leave, and instead ventured further into the office. His gaze was fixed on the mess Jack was making in his futile attempt to look occupied.

"Jack, please, just stop…"

Jack tensed briefly before slapping his hands down on the desk in frustration and finally looking up at the younger man. Aggravation radiated out from him in waves, and Ianto could feel it coming off him like heat.

"What? What is it? Are you going to tell me it's a stupid idea, too? Because if you are, I don't want to hear it. I've made up my mind…"

"I'm not here to argue with you," Ianto countered. "Don't get defensive on me, Jack."

"Then what? What do you want?"

Ianto sat carefully on the corner of the desk, taking care to maintain a respectable distance without appearing too aloof.

"Is it too hard for you to accept that we're concerned about you?" he asked simply. "Because we are. It's not nothing to do with trying to put limitations on you, if that's what you're thinking."

Jack glowered at him, feeling the anger rising up yet again.

"You couldn't possibly know what I'm thinking."

"That's the point, though, isn't it?" Ianto said. "I can't know, because you aren't talking to me. You're just yelling and snarling at me… and yes, I know I deserve it. I don't deny that. But please, Jack. For your own sake, won't you try and just talk to me?"

For nearly a minute, the two men simply stared at each other. Jack glowered, while Ianto maintained an admirably placid expression. Finally, Jack broke first and his shoulders slumped heavily in defeat.

"Owen thinks I'm being unfair to you."

Ianto said nothing in answer to that. The truth was that he'd overheard that snippet of Jack's conversation with Owen, and he knew Jack's tired, confused mind was warping nearly every conversation. He knew damned well that there would be no point in trying to correct him.

"I don't want to be angry at you. I just can't help it. I can't stop myself from feeling like this."

"Which is why I think you're right in wanting to go tonight," Ianto said quietly. Jack blinked at him, startled and not entirely certain that he'd heard correctly.

"You… You're agreeing with me?"

"Yes," Ianto confirmed. "I believe I am. I'm not so sure I'm in agreement with the timing, but I don't blame you for wanting to go. You need to face these demons. I can understand that, and I've got no right to dictate to you over it. So yes, I'm supporting you, whether the others agree or not."

The relief on Jack's face was palpable.

"Thankyou."

"Just promise me one thing," Ianto asked, and Jack suddenly tensed again. The Welshman smile sadly, and risked reaching out to touch Jack's shoulder. He felt the slight shudder of the muscles beneath the flesh as Jack flinched involuntarily, and quietly withdrew his hand.

"What?" Jack asked.

Though there was still tension in his posture and in his voice, Ianto also read compliance there. He'd made that effort to exert his somewhat tenuous influence, and Ianto had conceded. It was, they both realised, all Jack wanted — to have someone see the situation from his perspective. The others were concerned about him, and as much as Jack understood and appreciated that, it wasn't what he wanted or needed right then.

"If I tell you I think you need to back off, or if I think it's all getting to be a bit too much for you, please listen to me."

Jack felt a swift burst of anger. He wanted to argue. He wanted to yell at Ianto and tell him that he was perfectly capable of setting his own limits, thankyou very much. The anger dimmed, though, as he took in Ianto's expression; silently pleading with him to trust someone else to do the right thing by him for once.

With reluctance — extreme reluctance and a very tangible fear — Jack conceded.

* * *

to be continued...  



	26. At The Scene Of The Crime

_A/N: I've been promising an update of this for a while, and here it is. For the sake of actually posting something, I've had to end this chapter on something of a cliffhanger, but I promise it will not be nearly as long until the next update. The plot bunnies are finally bouncing again after a long ideas drought, and I know pretty much what's happening next._

* * *

Kathy Swanson got a report of the all-clear just after dusk, which she reported with much reluctance to Jack. He reacted immediately, with perhaps a little more bravado than was natural even for him, announcing they were on the move and sweeping through the Hub like a proverbial force ten hurricane, on his way to the garage. It surprised no one, however, that upon arrival in the garage, Jack bypassed the SUV altogether without sparing it so much as a glance, and instead made a direct beeline for Ianto's car.

"Jack," Gwen spoke up tentatively. "It's okay to take the SUV. It's been fixed, see?"

The Captain glanced around in the direction of the SUV, and all of them caught the flinch that rippled through his body. Ianto spoke up quickly, anxious to do whatever he could to alleviate Jack's distress. It was going to be hard enough on Jack when they got to the Butetown estate. Quite frankly, Ianto didn't blame Jack for any nervousness or distress. The idea of seeing the place where Jack had been so brutally assaulted wasn't exactly a recipe for a settled stomach.

"Jack and I will take my car," he announced before anyone could say anything. "After all, we can't all fit into the SUV."

"Not bigger on the inside, then?" the Doctor queried. Several pairs of eyes turned towards him with incredulous and confused stares, but Jack smiled and chuckled softly in appreciation of the joke.

"No, Doctor, it's not bigger on the inside. You're the only one with that trick."

The Doctor grinned brightly at his former companion, and the look on his face was clear. Tension broken – mission accomplished. Feeling grudgingly grateful to the Time Lord, Ianto ushered Jack into the passenger seat of his car, and then turned back and tossed the SUV keys to Owen.

"We'll follow you there."

Owen nodded and got into the SUV without uttering a word of protest. Kathy climbed into the passenger seat beside him, and Tosh, Gwen and the Doctor clambered into the backseat together. Tish, having been given the choice, had quietly decided to remain behind at the Hub, and wait for them to come back. As much as she wanted to support Jack, she wasn't ashamed to admit that she didn't want to go anywhere near the place where Jack had been assaulted. It reminded her too much of recent past experiences, she'd said.

In response, Jack had gathered her to him in a protective hug, and kissed her gently on the top of her head.

"I understand," he'd whispered, and for a moment the two of them had just stood there holding each other, lost in a moment of melancholy that only the Doctor seemed to have any real understanding of.

Now, the rest of them were on their way to the scene of the crime, for a purpose which they all suspected that even Jack didn't really know. Owen glanced at his passengers as he guided the SUV out of the garage, and wasn't entirely surprised to see a frown on Gwen's face. He could guess what she was upset at, and made an effort to keep his voice calm as he spoke.

"I'm sure that Jack appreciates the effort you made to get the SUV clean, Gwen, but you do get why he wouldn't ride in it, don't you?"

When she didn't answer, Kathy spoke instead.

"The last time he was in this vehicle, he was at someone else's mercy."

"Someone who didn't show him any mercy," the Doctor added sombrely.

"Exactly," Kathy agreed. "It'll take time before he can even look at this car again, let alone ride in it."

"I understand that," Gwen protested. "Really! I just thought…"

Owen's gaze hardened fractionally.

"You thought what?"

They locked stares for a moment before Gwen shook her head.

"Nothing," she murmured, sounding defeated rather than belligerent. "Nothing, it's not important."

None of them chose to argue the point with her.

* * *

Jack was understandably silent as they followed the SUV. His eyes remained cast downwards, fixed on his vortex manipulator. Ianto considered trying to make conversation for all about twenty seconds before deciding to just let him be. If Jack wanted to make small talk, then he'd initiate it.

Instead, he focused on the road ahead, and what they were likely to find at the scene. He hoped there had been some effort made to clean up, although he strongly doubted it. As much as he suspected Jack would baulk at going into the building once they arrived, he also knew better than to try and predict his Captain's reaction. Even if he had the kind of insight that Owen had, Ianto knew he couldn't possibly know what was really going on inside Jack's mind. No one could, and Ianto suspected the truth was that not even Jack really knew for certain. There really was no way to know whether Jack would be willing or able to venture inside the building once they were there, and he sure as hell wasn't going to ask the question now.

"You're thinking I should have stayed behind, aren't you?"

Ianto was hardly surprised by the accusatory tone Jack used, and certainly not offended by it.

"We already talked about this, remember?" Ianto reminded him. "I told you that I support you."

"But that doesn't mean that you agree with it. You don't, do you?"

"Like I said before, I don't necessarily agree with the timing. I think you might have been better off doing this further down the track. As far as evidence goes, I don't see that we're achieving anything, but this isn't about finding evidence, is it?"

Jack looked away quickly. Ianto took the opportunity to glance down and, sure enough, Jack was rubbing fiercely at his wrists.

"I need…"

Ianto waited patiently. He knew full well that pressing any harder would only lead to Jack shutting down on him. A minute passed that felt more like an hour before Jack spoke haltingly.

"You were right," Jack said softly, forcing Ianto to strain to hear him. "I need to… to face it… What they did."

"I understand," Ianto murmured. Jack still didn't look back at him.

"I need to face it, but I didn't want to… I _couldn't_ do it alone."

Ianto sighed. There it was, finally out in the open.

"You didn't need to hide that from any of us, Jack," Ianto admonished him lightly. "You could have said that's what it was really about."

"You think so?" Jack growled. His voice betrayed a hint of impatience, aggravation and, if Ianto wasn't mistaken, a not-so-small dose of nerves. "You really think I could have said that, and Owen wouldn't have argued?"

"But you weren't just worried about how Owen would react, were you?"

"All of them," Jack confessed.

"Well, for the record, if you'd put your case forward on that footing, Owen would have been the last person to argue with you."

"I know," Jack said miserably, resting his head lightly against the car window. "You… you do support me, don't you?"

"Of course I do. Whatever your reasons for doing this, none of us have the right to dictate to you, and say you shouldn't be doing it. You're doing what you feel you need to do, and of course I support that." He paused, and rolled his eyes. "That didn't half come out sounding trite, did it?"

Jack, however, didn't seem to notice.

"Thankyou," he murmured sincerely. His gratitude brought a warm smile to Ianto's face.

"You're welcome."

There was silence for the next couple of minutes, only to be broken by Jack once more.

"Gwen was upset, wasn't she?"

"Over what?" Ianto asked. He wasn't entirely sure what Jack meant, possibly because he'd paid Gwen – or anyone else, for that matter – little attention in his efforts to keep Jack calm and settled.

"The SUV. She cleaned it, didn't she?"

"I believe so, yes," Ianto confirmed. He was grudgingly respectful of her for that, knowing as he did from past experience how hard it was to get fresh blood stains off upholstery, let alone old ones. He suspected that cleaning the blood out of the SUV must have taken hours. He had no idea how she'd managed to get the window repaired, but he had a sneaking suspicion that the Doctor was behind that. Whatever the explanation, he figured he was better off not knowing.

"She cleaned it," Jack said haltingly, his voice bringing Ianto back to the present. "But I still couldn't ride in it. I could barely even look at it. She was upset, I could tell."

"She'll understand," Ianto insisted. "It just comes back to the same thing, Jack. You need time. It's going to take time for you to get back any sort of semblance of normal. Don't be ashamed of that, because we do understand. Even Gwen."

Jack looked away again, out the window.

"I feel like I'm letting you all down."

"What? No! You're not, Jack, believe me. You are not letting us down in any way."

Jack, however, seemed to take no reassurance from Ianto's words.

"I wish I could believe that."

Ianto swallowed a sigh.

"You will, Jack. Eventually, you will."

* * *

To say that the Butetown Estate was creepy at night was a bloody big understatement. Ianto pulled his car up a short distance away from the SUV. Not right next to it – he didn't want to do that to Jack, given his admission that the mere sight of the vehicle set him on edge. He then turned off the ignition and turned the Captain.

"Do you want to get out? Or would you prefer to wait here?"

Jack didn't answer. His gaze was fixed on the building before them, and Ianto could see the sick horror on his face.

"You weren't ready for this at all, were you?" Ianto murmured sadly.

Jack's breath hitched in his chest and he suddenly seemed to regain his self-control. Almost throwing the door open, he climbed out into the chilly Cardiff evening. Sighing softly, Ianto followed suit.

"Well,, are we going to get this over with?" Owen asked brusquely. Kathy took a step towards a somewhat dilapidated and heavily graffiti-covered doorway.

"This way," she told them – unnecessarily, as it turned out, for the crime scene ribbon was still there in a tattered heap on the ground.

For several long, awkward seconds, no one moved. Then the Doctor walked purposefully into the building, followed with reluctance by Tosh, Owen and Gwen. Kathy hesitated, looking back at Jack and Ianto. Jack stood frozen and trembling, while Ianto watched him worriedly. Kathy approached slowly, sensing Jack was dangerously close to a full-blown panic attack.

"You don't have to go in there. It really isn't necessary."

"I should be able to…" he whispered hoarsely. She uttered a loud, derisive snort.

"Oh, bloody bullshit! You need to stop being so bloody hard on yourself, Harkness. The truth is that most people find it impossible to return to the place where the crime against them took place. So what if you can't actually bring yourself to go inside? The fact that you're standing right here, right now, is pretty damned amazing. So quit beating up on yourself, because it really isn't necessary. You're already doing so much better than most who have been in similar situations to you."

Ianto watched Jack carefully throughout Kathy's tirade. Though the strain on his face remained, it appeared the panic faded minutely. When he spoke, it was in a heavily subdued whisper.

"I can't go in there. I… I thought I could, but I can't."

Kathy smiled gently at him.

"And that's okay. It really is okay. Ianto?"

"I'll stay with Jack," he offered. He wasn't sure how much of it was a desire to take care of Jack, as opposed to simply not wanting to witness the scene where the assault had happened. Jack, notably, never argued.

"All right," Kathy conceded. "Wait here, we won't be long."

Once she was gone, Ianto turned back to Jack in worry.

"Are you okay to wait here? Because if you'd prefer, we could just head straight back to the Hub."

"No," Jack answered, unsurprisingly. "No, I need to stay."

Ianto refrained from pointing out that Jack didn't need to do anything that made him uncomfortable. Though he disagreed, the choice still lay with Jack. If the Captain felt he had to stay, then so be it.

Silence fell. Combined with the rapidly failing light, it made for an oppressive atmosphere, and Ianto had an increasing desire to get as far away from the place as he could. In an effort to keep himself from thinking too hard on where they were, Ianto turned his attention to the night sky and silently began to pick out the constellations.

"Maybe when this is over, I can talk the Doctor into taking us for a short trip."

Ianto started a little at Jack's voice whispering into his ear, and turned to look at him quizzically. There it was, that hesitant, anxious look that suggested to Ianto that Jack was desperate to appease him. It was a look that Ianto had seen so often before, usually after Jack had screwed up in some way. Smiling softly, Ianto took Jack's hand in his own in a carefully exaggerated gesture.

"I thought we were clear. You don't have anything to make up to me. I'm the one who needs to atone."

Jack seemed to consider that before flashing a grin at Ianto.

"Does that mean I'm finally going to meet your mother?"

It was an ill-concealed challenge that Ianto very nearly recoiled from by instinct. Jack was watching him closely, though, and Ianto knew in an instant that he was being tested. Under any other circumstances, he would have been angry, but Jack had earned this right and Ianto only had one option for a response.

Leaning in, he kissed Jack oh-so-softly on the lips before resting their foreheads lightly together.

"Yes, Jack. I'm going to introduce you to my mother. If she doesn't scare you off, then I'll know it's safe to let you meet the rest of my family."

Jack laughed, and the sound sent waves of warmth through Ianto. He was further warmed when Jack threw his arms around him, and hugged him tightly. Encouraged, Ianto folded his own arms around Jack.

This was the man that Ianto had desperately missed – the man who showed affection without fear or concern; without worrying what anyone else thought. He felt Jack bury his face at the junction of his neck and shoulder, and smiled at the soft huff of contentment that tickled the bare flesh above his shirt collar.

Ianto stroked his hands up and down Jack's spine, knowing the motion would soothe him further. He wanted nothing more right then than to bundle Jack into his car, take him home and thoroughly pamper him – this was the last place where he wanted to have a cuddle. While Jack was settled, though, he dared not do anything to disturb him.

He heard the sound of approaching footsteps, and deliberately ignored it. He figured that at this stage, the others would not be so unthinking as to make any sort of derogatory remarks about finding them in each other's arms. His train of thought was shattered when a hand grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked him backwards, away from Jack. He stumbled and fell, landing heavily on his arse in the dirt, and a quick glance told him Jack had just experienced the same indignity.

"Fuckin' fags," a grating voice snarled in the darkness. "You fucking perverts make me sick!"

Even over the unpleasant, sneering voice, Ianto could hear Jack's sharp intake of breath, and he knew, he just _knew_ who it was who had interrupted their moment together.

Ianto started to get back up, already reaching for the gun that was hidden by his jacket, when a booted foot slammed into his back and sent him sprawling in the dirt. He heard Jack utter a cry that was half rage, half fright, and felt his lover's hands on his shoulders a moment later.

"Teach 'em a lesson, Gaz," another voice urged. "Go on. Just like we did with that poof on Christmas Eve."

Someone came to stand over them, and Ianto grunted as a boot was planted squarely on his back, pinning him to the ground.

"You fucking perverts never learn," a grating voice snarled. "Just when we think we've got a handle on the situation, more of you come slinking out of the fucking walls! When the fuck are you gonna learn? We don't want you in our city!"

Each of the man's last few words were punctuated with a solid kick to Ianto's side, and on the last kick Ianto uttered a strangled cry of pain as he felt one of his ribs crack. At the same time, though, Ianto could feel Jack's hand slipping beneath his body, and all he could think was that it was hardly the moment to cop a feel. But then he felt the gun in his holster shift, and he realised what Jack was about to do.

"Jack…"

He got no further. In a fluid movement that reminded Ianto fairly starkly of earlier days when even cannibals posed no threat to the legendary Captain of Torchwood, Jack lunged upwards. He grabbed the foot that had planted itself in the middle of Ianto's back once more, and twisted hard. There was a loud, ominous crack, followed by a scream of pain, and a heavy-set man landed with a painful thud on the ground beside Ianto.

With a bellow of rage, Jack turned on one knee and fired Ianto's gun. Shouts of surprise and anger turned swiftly to howls of pain as Jack shot out the kneecaps of two of the felled man's accomplices, bringing them down as well. A fourth man turned tail and bolted, disappearing into the darkness before Jack was able to fire another shot.

"Ianto, are you okay?" Jack asked, and the young man nodded breathlessly.

"Yeah… Just winded…"

"Good," Jack growled. "Keep an eye on them. I'm going after the one that ran."

It took Ianto a moment to realise just what Jack had said, and by then it was too late. Jack had already gone after their would-be attacker.

A grunting noise alerted him to movement, and he looked back to see the one who had kicked him was trying to get up, despite an obviously broken ankle. He cursed quietly at the realisation that Jack had taken his own gun, but it wasn't an issue for long. Out of the building, his colleagues came at a run, and the three downed men suddenly found themselves surrounded by four guns and one irate Time Lord.

"Where is Jack?" the Doctor demanded to know. Ianto pointed in the direction that Jack had gone. He desperately wanted to go after the Captain himself, but even breathing was causing him considerable pain. He knew he had no chance of catching up to Jack.

"That way. He went after a fourth one that ran off." He looked around at the remaining three men in disgust and anger. "It's them. They're the ones who attacked him on Christmas Eve, and they were going to attack us just now."

"Broken ankle," Owen mused aloud as he went quickly from one assailant to the next. "And you shot out their knees. That's impressive, Ianto. I didn't know your aim was that good."

Ianto grimaced as he struggled up into an upright position with Gwen and Kathy's help.

"It wasn't me. It was Jack. I was busy breaking my ribs on that bastard's boot. I thought Jack was having a breakdown, or a panic attack, but I think it was just for show. He got hold of my gun, and then he broke that one's ankle, and shot the other two in the knees. He brought all three of them down, and then he went after the other one."

"If he kills him…" Kathy said uneasily. Ianto glared at her, though there was no real heat in his gaze.

"He could have killed these three. He could easily have shot all three of them dead, but he didn't. He just incapacitated them. Give him a little credit, Detective. He does still have some reasoning and control."

"Maybe," Gwen said grimly, "but I'd rather we didn't take the chance. Owen, do what you need to do for these three, and for Ianto, not necessarily in that order. Tosh, will you stay and help? The rest of us will go after Jack."

Kathy's expression reflected her surprise at the sudden way in which Gwen stepped up to take charge, but neither Owen nor Tosh appeared concerned with the shift in dynamics of authority; Ianto was in too much pain to care and the Doctor…

The Doctor had already gone after Jack, she realised in dismay.

"C'mon, Cooper," she growled at Gwen, and hurried off into the darkness after Jack and the Time Lord.

* * *

_tbc..._


	27. Taking Back Control

Jack was almost literally in a blind rage, running on adrenalin. In his mind's eye, he saw each of the six men who had attacked him, and he no longer felt that numbing, paralysing fear. Instead, he felt a white hot, all-consuming fury. He pictured Ianto on the ground, being kicked and taunted and threatened, and that fury bubbled over and literally exploded.

With the benefit of hindsight, Jack would admit at least to himself, that he would probably not have acted but for the sound of his young lover being hurt. Now, all fear was forgotten as he ran after the man who had fled.

He had no thought for those who were coming after him – he knew the Doctor was one; he could Fhear his voice calling out to him. All he could think of, though, was getting his hands on the man who was ahead of him. Jack was so single-minded in his determination that he didn't anticipate his prey stopping, and waiting for him in the darkness.

The iron bar came out of nowhere, slamming into his gut and winding him severely. Jack staggered in shock, and the bar came down hard on his back, driving him to the ground. As he lay there in a momentary daze, his assailant took the opportunity to emulate his associate, and kicked Jack hard in the side.

"You fucking poof. Think you'd have a chance in a real fight, against a real man?"

In his peripheral vision, Jack saw a hand reaching towards the gun that he'd dropped moments before. Fresh rage surged through him, and he rolled onto his side and kicked out hard, driving his booted foot upwards into the unsuspecting man's groin. In the few seconds it took for the man to recover from the blow, Jack was back on his feet and had the sorry son of a bitch pinned to a tree.

There, face to face in the dim moonlight, the man finally saw and recognised his intended victim.

"You... Fucking hell, it's you! You ought to be dead! How in the fuck...?"

Jack was in no mood to waste his breath with pointless taunts. Lunging forward, he head-butted the man in the face, breaking his nose and possibly a tooth or two, and followed that with three rage-fuelled punches to his gut. Then, while the man was still stunned by the rapid succession of blows, Jack snatched the gun up off the ground, and aimed it right between his eyes.

"Tell me why I shouldn't kill you," Jack hissed. "Give me a reason. Go on, I want to hear you beg."

"Fuck you!"

The words were defiant, but there was fear in the man's eyes. Jack's expression turned downright ugly, and he released the safety catch.

"You already did that, remember? Tell me something, though, you piece of shit. If you're so against _my sort_, then what does that make you?"

"Wh... What are you talking about? I'm not a goddamn fag..."

"What did you do, then? Take Viagra? Must've been a hefty dose. If I remember right, you came back seconds, thirds... even fourths. Got it up every time, too. Is that why you hate guys like me so much? Because the truth is, you're just like me, and you hate yourself for it." He pressed the gun forward, resting the barrel between the terrified man's eyes. "I think I'm right, so going by your logic, I'd be doing you a favour by pulling the trigger. That is what you said to me, isn't it? That you were doing me a favour? Well, my mum and dad always taught me to pay back favours in full."

Tears glistened in the man's eyes as he stared past the barrel of the gun, into Jack's enraged face and saw his own death there.

"Who... Who the hell are you?"

Jack bared his teeth in a feral grin.

"I'm the one you should have walked away from."

He was a split second away from pulling the trigger when a hand alighted on his shoulder, and another closed over the gun and pushed it gently down. Jack looked around breathlessly to find the Doctor there beside him.

"No, Jack," the Time Lord told him quietly. "That isn't the answer, and you know it."

"He deserves it!" Jack argued, though his tone lacked conviction. "They all do."

"Maybe, but that doesn't make it the right thing to do."

Movement alerted them to the arrival of Gwen and Kathy. Gwen came forward slowly, with anxiety on her face.

"Jack, please! Don't do it. He isn't worth it."

"She's right, Jack," Kathy added. "You're a better man than that."

A bitter laugh escaped Jack's lips.

"You wouldn't say that if you really knew me."

"_I_ know you," the Doctor said firmly. "I can say without a doubt that you're bigger on the inside."

"Is this where you tell me not to disappoint you, then?" Jack asked in a guttural tone.

Throwing a pointed look at the man Jack had pinned to the tree, the Doctor leaned in a pressed a tender kiss to Jack's temple.

"You've never disappointed me, Jack. And you won't now, regardless of what you do. I love you. Always have, always will. I'm just asking you to think twice now for your own sake. Please, Jack. Don't do this. Don't kill him."

Slowly but surely, Jack released the grip he had around the man's throat.

"Good man, Captain," the Doctor murmured as Jack finally released his hold on both the gun and the man, and stepped away into the Doctor's waiting embrace. Kathy nodded in acknowledgement of the Doctor, and stepped in to arrest the man.

"I'm placing you under arrest…."

"What the fuck for?" came the slightly hysterical response. "You saw him, _he _was threatening _me_! I… I wanna lay charges!"

Kathy glanced over at Jack. Right at that moment, he appeared oblivious to anything but his odd, lanky friend with no real name.

"Captain Harkness, can you identify this man?"

Jack lifted his face from where it had been buried against the Doctor's shoulder, and looked his assailant right in the eye. Only the very slightest of flinches gave away his high level of anxiety.

"Yes, I can. He's one of the six bastards that attacked me on Christmas Eve." Jack's breath caught in his throat, and his grip on the Doctor tightened a little. "He's the one who carved into me with a knife."

Kathy spun the man around, even as he began to protest his innocence, and proceeded to get out her set of handcuffs.

"I'm arresting you for assault, unlawful imprisonment and sexual assault…"

She didn't get any further. The infuriated man suddenly twisted away from Kathy and, with a howl of rage, lunged at Jack and the Doctor. Gwen and Kathy both shouted in alarm, and the Doctor grunted in surprise as Jack shoved him out of the line of fire an instant before he was tackled to the ground. There was a glint of metal in the dim light, followed by a pained cry from Jack that trailed off into a sickening, gurgling moan.

"Get off him, you piece of filth!" Gwen screamed and, with a strength born of adrenalin and rage, she hauled the hapless man off the Captain.

"You really, _really_ shouldn't have done that," the Doctor growled menacingly as he picked himself up. Pulling out his sonic screwdriver, he activated one of its many settings and pressed it to the man's head. He went rigid for several seconds before collapsing unconscious to the ground.

"What did you just do?" Kathy asked in shock. "You didn't kill him, did you?"

"No, just knocked him out," the Doctor reassured her. "He won't wake up again for another twenty-four hours, at least, and when he does he'll have one hell of a migraine."

Satisfied, Kathy turned her attention back to Jack, and felt her heart sink. Gwen was cradling him to her, heedless of the deep laceration across his throat, from which his life blood poured. He was still alive, but even as Kathy watched, the light in his eyes dimmed and then disappeared altogether.

"Oh no," Kathy whispered in dismay as the shock of what had just happened began to sink in, and tears stung her eyes. It was unfair, she thought bitterly, that Jack should come through so much, only to die now at the hands of a coward. She walked forward almost on autopilot, and sank to her knees beside Jack. He was a bloodied mess; the laceration had cut deep into his throat. "Son of a bitch got his carotid artery," she said unnecessarily. "He never had a chance. Damn it!"

"What are you doing?" Gwen asked as Kathy brought out her mobile phone.

"Calling an ambulance for that waste of space and his mates, and for Jack."

"No need for that, Detective," the Doctor said. "At least, not for Jack. By the time the ambulance gets here, it'll be as though nothing will have happened."

Kathy stared at him incredulously.

"Don't tell me you're still trying to perpetuate this whole 'he can't die' business? Look at him, for God's sake! He's dead! I'm sorry, but he isn't going to just wake up!"

The Doctor said nothing in response, but raised an eyebrow at her, which only served to heighten the detective's irritation.

"Damn it, this is no time for fantasy! He's dead, and there's no coming back from that!"

"Miss Cooper," the Doctor said in an infuriatingly calm tone, "would you please contact your colleagues, and ask Miss Sato to bring young Mr Jones here? I think Jack would be grateful to wake up to him, don't you?"

Gwen looked very much like she wanted to argue, but didn't dare. Instead, she activated the comms, and asked Tosh to bring Ianto, giving them a very brief run-down of what had happened.

"You're mad," Kathy said incredulously. "You're all bloody, stark-raving mad. This is… It's…"

"Mad?" Gwen offered with a wry smile. "Welcome to Torchwood, Detective Swanson."

Movement in the trees alerted them to Tosh and Ianto's arrival, and Ianto hurried to Jack's side and gently took him from Gwen, heedless of both his own injuries and the copious amounts of Jack's blood that rapidly stained his clothes.

"Thankyou," he murmured sincerely to Gwen, and she answered him with a small smile and a nod. Then, he returned his attention to Jack's lifeless body, and laid a soft kiss on his lover's lips.

"Come back to us, cariad. We're waiting. I'm waiting."

Kathy shook her head, torn between wanting to laugh and cry.

"You're all certifiable! This is insane, I should be calling for support, and an ambulance… and the coroner…"

The Doctor laid a hand on her shoulder, silencing her rant. When she looked back at him, she couldn't help but notice the acute discomfort on his face.

"Wait for it, Detective. Any moment now…"

Kathy, to her credit, only uttered a tiny, startled cry when Jack suddenly lurched back to life, arching in Ianto's arms and gasping wildly for air. He flailed briefly, but Ianto kept a firm hold on him and continued to speak soothingly until Jack settled.

"Wha… What happened?" he asked, sounding understandably hoarse.

"He attacked you, Jack," Gwen answered. "He cut your throat."

Jack groaned, coughed painfully and then groaned again.

"Crap. I hate death by exsanguination. It always takes me a few hours to get my strength back."

"Well, just relax for a moment," Ianto told him. "Just lie still until you feel up to moving."

Jack was more than happy to do just that, and he all but snuggled into Ianto's arms.

"You'll get blood all over your suit," Jack mumbled. Ianto leaned down to kiss him tenderly. Encouragingly, Jack didn't shie away, but rather pushed up into the kiss.

"I don't care. My suit can be cleaned."

Jack sighed contentedly, and settled once more, until his gaze went to Kathy, who was still gaping.

"Still think we're crazy?" he asked. Her mouth snapped shut, and she glared half-heartedly at him.

"I think I just witnessed something completely impossible."

A tired smile flickered across Jack's face.

"Not the first time I've been called that. Right, Doctor?"

The Time Lord regarded Jack fondly.

"You're still an impossible thing, and I wouldn't want you any other way."

Suddenly aware that Jack was in danger of going to sleep right there on the rough ground, Ianto began to try and lever him up.

"C'mon, Jack. Let's get you up. This is not the place for having a nap."

Jack grumbled in protest, but allowed himself to be pushed up, and from there it was a joint effort to get him on his feet. There Jack stood, exhausted but very much alive, and with one arm slung around Ianto's shoulders for support.

"I'll call for a team to come and get this sorry bastard and his mates," Kathy said. Instantly, Jack's expression hardened.

"No."

It was said with an authority that was in no way diminished by the fact that Jack was clinging to his lover like a limpet. Kathy, however, had never been guilty of capitulating to Jack without reason or argument, and she didn't intend on starting now, no matter how weak he appeared to be.

"Jack, we have four of your attackers here, and you want me to just let them go?"

"I didn't say that," Jack answered coolly. "We're taking them back to the Hub and locking them up there until we decide what to do with them."

Ianto and Gwen exchanged surreptitious looks. Neither one had missed the fact that Jack had said 'we' rather than 'I'.

"This can't go to trial, Kathy," Jack said. "Now you know why. I keep my secrets for good reasons. My own team only found out that I can't die by chance. And the world at large just isn't ready for Torchwood, or the truth about what we do."

She conceded, if with extreme reluctance, hating to admit it but knowing he was right.

"All right. Okay. Back to your base it is, then."

* * *

"Did you know?'

Jack looked up from where he lay curled up on the couch in the rec area. It had been Owen's orders upon their return to the Hub that Jack rest, and the medic had made it abundantly clear that he would not take no for an answer. That had been just fine by Jack. He'd spent the trip back from the Butetown estate dozing on and off whilst resting in Ianto's embrace in the backseat of his young lover's car – the vehicle had been driven by Tosh, who had kept glancing at them in the rear view mirror with a sad and wistful look.

Now, Jack watched as Tish Jones approached slowly and crouched down beside the couch so that they were much closer to eye level.

"Did you know they'd be there?"

"No," Jack answered honestly. "No, I didn't know. It hadn't even occurred to me that they might be there. I just… I wanted to face it. To see where it happened, and not have break-down. I wanted to prove that I'm still strong."

Tish looked at him reprovingly. It was a look, Jack thought ruefully, that she'd inherited exclusively from her formidable mother.

"No, Jack. You wanted to do it because you couldn't do it on the Valiant."

He flinched visibly at her words but, tellingly, didn't argue with her. She reached for his hand and grasped it gently.

"It's okay, you know. I understand. So, were you able to?"

"I couldn't make myself go inside," he admitted, eyes downcast. "I wanted to, but in the end I couldn't."

"No shame, Jack," Tish whispered. "You said that to me when I couldn't go back on the bridge of the Valiant, remember?"

"And Francine said it to me when I couldn't go back down to the engine room," Jack murmured. "No shame… I miss your folks, Tish."

"They miss you, too. When they come home, you're coming for a visit, and no arguments."

Jack smiled wanly. Exhaustion was creeping over him, and he was very nearly asleep. Tish paused, and then took a chance and leaned in to kiss him lightly on the cheek. Jack sighed faintly at the contact, more asleep now than awake.

"Love you… Yan…"

Tish smiled faintly, and as she rocked back on her heels, movement drew her attention, and she looked up to find Ianto hovering at the end of the couch. It was clear from the look on his face that he had heard Jack's whispered confession.

"He really does love you, you know," Tish said quietly, getting up with Ianto's help.

"I know. I love him, too."

A moment later, he winced as Tish slapped him on the arm.

"Then make sure he knows it, you silly git!"

Ianto flushed bright red at the admonishment, and tried to steer her away from the awkward subject.

"Can I ask you a question, Tish? About what happened on the Valiant?"

She faltered, but then nodded her consent.

"All right. Won't promise I'll answer, but ask away."

Ianto sucked in a long breath.

"This is going to make me sound like a bloody schoolgirl with a crush, but did Jack talk to you about me at all?"

Tish couldn't help herself. She abruptly burst into a fit of giggles, and had to quickly cover her mouth.

"Sorry… I just got a picture in my head of you in a school dress and pigtails."

Ianto smiled wryly.

"Please, don't ever mention that to Jack. It'll only give him ideas."

She had another short burst of giggles before her smile faded to make way for something more melancholy.

"We weren't supposed to talk to each other on the Valiant. _He_ didn't like it."

"You mean Saxon?"

She nodded quickly.

"Yeah. Him. He didn't want us to communicate, because he said that led to collaboration. Anyone he accused of collaboration died horribly, and publicly… so we all just kept our mouths shut."

Ianto felt sick.

"Except Jack was never one to keep quiet."

"He never talked about you or the rest of Torchwood when Saxon was on board," Tish explained. "I don't think he dared, because he didn't want to bring you all to Saxon's attention. But there were maybe half a dozen or so times when Saxon left the Valiant with that horrible wife of his. Then one of the techs would put the CCTV on a loop, and a couple of the guards would swap shifts so we could go down and spend a few hours with Jack. Just me, Mum and Dad, mind. The Doctor couldn't leave the bridge. Some of the guards were still loyal to Saxon, and they would have told him. When we could do that, though, Jack would talk to us about you. He talked about Owen, Gwen and Toshiko, too, but he talked most about you, and when he did his whole face lit up." She paused, and then said again, "He really does love you, Ianto."

Ianto blinked back the threat of tears.

"I know."

* * *

"Five down, one to go," Kathy said ruefully as the fourth man was locked into a cell. The remaining three had been heavily sedated by Owen for the trip back to Torchwood. No doubt, when they each eventually awoke, they would be wondering where the hell they were, and what was going on. That was a moment they were all quietly looking forward to, though none would admit to it. "I reckon this clowns will give up their mate pretty quickly, once they realise what sort of trouble they're in."

She wasn't being facetious, either. It was the first look she'd gotten at the Torchwood Three containment cells, and it was enough to send shudders through her. Despite the technology that kept the cells secured, the place still looked like a medieval dungeon, and she half expected to see door leading to a torture chamber somewhere nearby. She imagined the four sorry individuals currently locked up there were going to get the fright of their lives when they woke up and realised that they were somewhere infinitely worse than the average police lock-up.

At least, she certainly hoped so.

"Maybe," Owen conceded, bringing the detective out of her brief moment of rumination. "But we still don't know what to do with them, and I for one am against retcon."

The Doctor nodded approvingly.

"Quite right, Dr Harper. No one should have their memories taken from them. Jack, of all people, ought to understand that."

Owen turned and focused a savage look on the Time Lord.

"That isn't what I bloody meant. I don't think we ought to retcon them, because it's letting them off too damned easy!"

The Doctor's expression hardened fractionally. He could hear the threat in Owen's voice as clear as day, and he really did not like it.

"So, what are we going to do with them?" Gwen asked quickly, anxious to defuse the sudden tension in the room. "There's no point in turning them over to the police, but we can't leave them here indefinitely."

"I won't stand for them to be killed," the Doctor warned them. "So don't even contemplate it."

"Can we at least agree that they deserve to be punished for what they've done?" Toshiko interrupted. Kathy nodded fiercely.

"Absolutely, and it's not just for what they did to Jack, even though that's enough on its own. These men are sadists, and they're killers. I don't have any solid evidence, but I sincerely believe that they're the ones who are responsible for at least eight other similar assaults over the last couple of years."

"Assaults that all resulted in death," Owen added, recalling what she'd told him only a couple of days ago up in the tourist office. Kathy nodded again.

"Yes. Jack is just the first one to have survived, and that's not because of his… whatever you call it. He didn't die, and come back to life that night. He did actually survive. Now, if I had my way, they'd go to prison for the rest of their lives. I know what our judicial system is like, though. Not being able to put Jack on the stand to testify, any half-way decent lawyer could easily plant the seeds of reasonable doubt. The sons of bitches would be acquitted, and there'd be nothing we could do about it. It just doesn't leave us with any options. They should be locked away, but it isn't going to happen."

"Tosh?" Gwen asked quietly, noticing the suddenly thoughtful look on her friend's face. "What are you thinking?"

All eyes turned to Toshiko, who looked very slightly queasy.

"I might have an idea," she admitted, "but I want to talk to Jack about it first. Whatever we do, however we deal with them, we need to make sure it gives Jack peace of mind. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Owen said, speaking for all of them. Tosh looked around at the small group nervously.

"I think we can do that, but like I said. I want to talk to Jack first, and see what he thinks."

"All right, then, Miss Sato," the Doctor conceded. He was watching her with an odd, knowing expression, and Tosh couldn't help but get the feeling that he somehow already knew what she was thinking. "The decision will be in Jack's hands."

* * *

_tbc..._


	28. A Brilliant Idea

A/N: _My apologies for the serious gap between the last update and now. I put this to one side in order to focus on and finish "What Never Should Be", and I just couldn't get back into it. I'm trying to rectify that now. So even though this is only a short chapter, please rest assured that the next chapter is half written already, and I plan on posting it in the next week or two.  
_

* * *

When Jack awoke, he immediately sensed the nervous tension that permeated the Hub. To begin with, though, no one said anything to him directly, with the exception of Ianto who quietly suggested he retreat to his office and that he'd bring him coffee and something to eat. Jack accepted willingly, and his mouth almost salivated at the thought of coffee.

By that time, it was approaching late hours, and Kathy and Tish had both left for home and hotel respectively. His team remained, as did the Doctor. It was blatantly obvious that they were all waiting for him to wake up, although he couldn't work out why. He wasn't inclined to dwell on it, either. He had other things to think on, and he relished the privacy of his office to do it in.

Five of the men had now been caught. One was dead at the hands of his own mates, and four were locked up in Torchwood Three's cells. That left one to find. Jack had to confess, he didn't clearly recall what the sixth man looked like. After a while, their faces had all more or less blurred into one, and all he really remembered was a stocky bloke of greater than average height. No how hard he tried, he simply couldn't picture a face, and that seriously bothered him.

Maybe, he conceded reluctantly, he should just hand the baton to Kathy and let her do her job. Except, he couldn't and he knew it. It wasn't only knowing that the police couldn't be allowed to prosecute, either. The bottom line was that he needed to see it through for his own sake, and his own peace of mind.

Jack knew he wouldn't rest easy until the last man was found, and he could not rest on his laurels and let others do the work for him. He wouldn't get any peace that way.

A light knock on the door derailed his train of thought, and irritation surged through him at the unwanted interruption. With some effort, he quickly tamped it back down. None of his people deserved in any way to bear the brunt of his anger. They had all been beyond stellar in their support of him, and he wanted desperately to show them that he appreciated it. Snapping and snarling at any of them was not the way to do it.

Breathing in steadily, he sat back and called out to the one on the other side of the door.

"Come in, Tosh."

She entered, a puzzled look on her face.

"How did you know it was me?"

Jack chuckled softly, and the sound of it warmed Tosh right through.

"If it was Gwen or Owen, they wouldn't bother knocking. They'd just come barrelling in. Ianto would knock, but he wouldn't wait for me to respond. And as for the Doctor... Well, I probably wouldn't notice him coming in until he was standing over the top of me."

Tosh smiled in appreciation of his attempt at a bit of light humour, but that soon faded as she recalled what she'd come in to talk to him about.

"Jack... Have you thought about what we're going to do about those men?"

She was quietly relieved that the mere mention of them didn't cause an adverse reaction. Jack simply regarded her solemnly.

"There's still one of them out there. I want to interrogate them, and find out who he is so we can pick him up, After that... I don't know. I don't know what I want to do about them."

Tosh frowned worriedly, momentarily distracted from her purpose by concern over Jack's intentions.

"Please, don't take this the wrong way, Jack, but are you sure it's a good idea for you to do it? Interrogate them, I mean?"

A small, bitter smile twisted Jack's lips briefly.

"I'm not going to kill them, Tosh."

She reddened, embarrassed.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

Leaning forward, he stretched across the expanse of his desk and gently squeezed her hand.

"Yes, you did, and it's okay. If you weren't concerned about that, _I'd_ be worried. But I meant it. I don't want to kill them... Not anymore. Don't get me wrong. I did want to for a while, very much so."

"What's changed? If you don't mind me asking…"

"It wouldn't help me," Jack said simply, "and it would make me as bad as them."

"No!" Tosh burst out with a vehemence that startled Jack. "No, Jack, you could never be as bad as them, so don't you dare think like that."

He smiled at her, a sweet and loving smile that was so vastly different to the thousand megawatt Harkness grin that he so often resorted to.

"Thankyou, Toshiko."

They sat in companionable silence briefly before Tosh suddenly recalled why she'd come in to see Jack in the first place.

"Jack, I have an idea for how we can deal with the men."

The smile slid off his face.

"What?"

"UNIT."

Jack's expression darkened considerably.

"Toshiko..."

"Wait, Jack. Hear me out, please. You remember how you found me? And where?"

He nodded wordlessly. Yes, he remembered acutely the dank, horrible isolation cell where he'd found his Toshiko, all because she'd wanted to save her mother's life. Tosh went on quickly, and only a very slight tremor in her voice gave away the nerves she felt at discussing such a topic. And then, suddenly, he realised what she was hinting at.

"Have UNIT lock them up, you mean?"

She nodded quickly, biting lightly at her lower lip.

"Like they did to me. No trial, no access to the legal system, and no chance for ever getting out. They'll be where you never have to worry about them again. Where they can't ever hurt anyone else ever again."

Jack was momentarily lost in thought. They idea had a great deal of merit. Even so, there was one particularly big hurdle.

"I like the sound of it, Tosh. I really do. But do you really think that UNIT would be willing to do that for me right now? I'm not exactly high on their list of favourite people. I doubt they'd pay me any attention."

"Maybe they wouldn't listen to you," Tosh conceded. "But they would listen to _him_."

Jack looked to see where she was indicating, and felt his breath catch. The Doctor...

"Toshiko, you're a genius!"

She smiled faintly at the fresh enthusiasm.

"I just want you to feel safe, Jack," she admitted. "You deserve to feel safe."

The big megawatt grin faded to make way for something more sincere. He was touched by her concern and care, and he wanted her to know that he appreciated it. The words wouldn't come, though. He kept swallowing convulsively, and imagined he was doing a pretty good impression of a guppy.

For her part, Toshiko seemed to understand. She smiled sweetly at him before standing up.

"Would you like me to talk to the Doctor about it?" she offered. Thankfully, Jack found his voice again.

"No... No, it's okay. I'll do that." He stood up quickly as she turned to go. "Tosh?"

She looked back quizzically, and was startled when Jack suddenly enveloped her in a huge bear hug, almost lifting her clean off the floor.

"What was that for?" she asked with a surprised laugh. To her amusement, Jack actually blushed.

"I just wanted to," he said sheepishly. Tosh couldn't suppress a grin. She didn't even try. Instead, she leaned in to return the hug, and was thrilled that he didn't flinch away from it.

"Anytime, Jack."

* * *

The Doctor listened in silence as Jack explained Toshiko's idea. He refrained from telling him exactly who had come up with it, not because he wanted to claim the idea as his own, but because he didn't want the Doctor to be angry at anyone other than him if the Time Lord objected.

His expression was inscrutable, as always, and Jack really had no idea what he was thinking. When the Doctor did finally speak, it was to say pretty much the last thing that Jack expected to hear.

"I really am proud of you, Jack. I hope you know that."

Jack gaped at him, torn between the emotion that the Doctor's words induced, and utter confusion.

"I... You... Sorry?"

The Doctor smiled wryly.

"Jack. Twice tonight, you had an opportunity to kill the men who hurt you. Twice, you chose the higher ground. And now, you've suggested the one solution that benefits everyone, and doesn't involve killing or questionable memory erasing tactics."

"Actually, it wasn't my idea," Jack admitted. "Toshiko came up with it. It was her idea. Until she brought it up, I was all for wiping their memories back to infancy."

If Jack had expected disappointment or anger, he was again surprised when the Doctor's smile broadened.

"I keep misjudging you, Jack. You're a better man than I'll ever be."

Again, Jack couldn't help gaping at the unexpected reaction. The smile faded from the Doctor's face, and he shifted closer to the Captain, reaching out to take his hands in a gentle grip.

"Jack. You have every right and reason to want those men dead. I have no right to stand in judgement over you for that, and yet that's what I've been doing. I am so sorry. Now, though, when you could easily go ahead and use whatever extreme measures you want to deal with them, you instead were willing to listen to someone else's idea, and take it on board. You really are bigger on the inside, Jack, and I am so proud of you."

It was almost too much to bear, and Jack wasn't quite sure how he managed to keep his emotions in check. He felt that he had to be honest, though, even at risk of provoking the Time Lord's anger and disappointment.

"Part of me still wants to kill them," Jack admitted softly. "I really do want to kill them so much. You're right, though. You and Gwen and Kathy… I'm better than that. Or at least, I'm trying to be. Toshiko's suggestion to let UNIT deal with them… It's about as close as I can justify getting to killing them, and it's the only way to guarantee that they'll be locked up for as long as they deserve to be."

"Which is for the rest of their lives," the Doctor mused. He favoured Jack with a smile. "You're making the right choice."

"The thing is," Jack went on uncertainly, "I know I'm not too popular with UNIT at the moment… given they all seem to think I've finally cracked. They aren't exactly going to lock them away just on my say-so."

The Doctor nodded, knowing exactly what Jack was edging towards.

"That would be where I come in. I'll talk to General Macintyre, and tells him what he needs to do. I think he'll be quite cooperative once I give him the broader picture."

"Not yet, though," Jack said quickly. "I need to talk to them first."

Concern flashed across the Doctor's face, and he regarded Jack with a piercing gaze that had the Captain wanting to squirm where he stood.

"Why do you think you need to do that? If it's because you want to try and understand them..."

"No," Jack answered, perhaps a fraction more sharply than he had intended. "I'll never understand that sort of hatred. I don't even want to try. No, it's simpler than that. There's one more of them out there somewhere. They're going to tell us who he is, and where to find him. I have to find him, Doctor. I won't feel safe until we do."

The Doctor conceded, and Jack had a suspicion that the Time Lord had known all along what his intentions were – he had just wanted Jack to admit them out loud.

"All right, Jack. On one condition."

Jack's eyes narrowed slightly, and he unconsciously braced himself.

"What condition?"

The smile that flickered across the Doctor's face was purely predatory, and sent shivers down Jack's spine.

"That we interrogate them together."

* * *

"Our guests are awake," Owen said as Jack and the Doctor emerged from Jack's office. It didn't escape his notice that Jack was looking much more settled, and he strongly suspected it was down to Jack's actions earlier that evening. He had some degree of his confidence back, and it was visible to everyone.

"When he says 'our guests'," Tosh interjected, "he means three of them. One is still unconscious."

"And will be for a while," the Doctor confirmed. "When he does eventually wake up, he's going to think he's going the hangover from hell."

"What did you do to him?" Jack wondered, unsurprisingly sounding less than concerned for the man's well-being.

"I put him out of commission," came the stony reply. "He hurt you, Jack. I wasn't going to let him get away with that."

For a split second, Jack flashed back to the Valiant. Hours, days, _months_ of unbearable torture, and at the end of it all was the soul-destroying vision of the Doctor cradling the body of the one responsible for it, like he was the only thing left that mattered. And now... _now_ the Doctor had the nerve to talk like he was being Jack's white knight? It was almost too much to stomach.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and came back to the present to find the Time Lord watching him with an apologetic gaze.

"I'm sorry for that, Jack. I wasn't myself. None of us were quite in our right minds at that point, and you know it."

Yes, he knew. It didn't make it any less painful, but he knew it. Now, though, was not the time to get caught up in those old emotions.

"Ianto!"

Ever reliable, Ianto materialised at Jack's side, ready for business.

"Sir?"

"Bring one of the three that are awake up to the interrogation room. Don't feel like you need to be gentle about it, either." He paused, as though he expected someone to object, but no such protests were forthcoming. For that, he was grateful. Ianto nodded in acquiescence, and went to carry out his instructions.

"Gwen, go with him," Jack added as an afterthought. "Safety in numbers."

She went, not bothering to point out that there was little chance that Ianto was going to let any of them get the drop on him again.

"Owen, can you help Tosh with monitoring?" Jack asked, and Owen complied without argument. The Captain and the Doctor then headed to the interrogation room to wait.

"I don't actually need any help," Tosh pointed out awkwardly, once Jack was gone.

"I know, Tosh," Owen assured her. "So does Jack. He's just trying to prove to himself that he's still in control, and I don't just mean the Hub. Best thing we can do is play along, even if the orders he gives us seem totally pointless. He needs to do it, and we need to humour him."

"I just want him back to the way he was, before it happened," Tosh admitted tremulously. Throwing propriety to the wind, Owen wrapped his arms around her in a comforting hug.

"I know, love. We all do."

She noted that he never went as far as to say that it would actually happen, and her heart quietly broke.

* * *

_to be continued...._


	29. Interrogation

"I keep expecting you to ask me if I'm really ready to do this," Jack admitted as they waited in the cold, dank interrogation room. The Doctor regarded him seriously.

"Would it influence you at all if I did?"

Jack thought that over for a moment before shaking his head.

"No. Probably not."

"There you go, then. Really, Jack, you're the only one who can know how ready you are for this. I do hope, though, that you're at least willing to trust to know where your limitations lie."

"If you tell me that I've had enough," Jack conceded, "then I'll accept it. I mean, I could suggest you use Ianto's methods of persuasion, but that would probably be inappropriate."

The Doctor's eyebrows lifted almost to his hairline.

"Do I want to know?"

Jack smiled faintly.

"He usually threatens to withhold sex or coffee. I'm still not sure which one is more effective, coming from him."

The Doctor chuckled softly, appreciating Jack's newfound ability to at least make a reference to sex without flinching.

"Well, as long as you accept it if I say enough, then that's fine with me."

Any further conversation between them was stymied when the door opened, and the one who had attacked Ianto limped in, a sour glare on his face. Behind him, Ianto had a gun to the man's back and an unrepentant look on his face at the Doctor's disapproving frown. Instead, he prodded the man in the back to ensure that he remained subdued.

"Sit," Ianto ordered. He glanced briefly towards the Doctor and Jack before heading out. He was not in the least bit surprised to find that Jack had moved back into the shadows, concealing his face. He just hoped that he got back upstairs in time to see the look on the sorry son of a bitch's face when Jack revealed himself.

"Mr Ian Roberts," the Doctor stated once Ianto had retreated from the room. Roberts glared up at the Time Lord.

"I want a lawyer. You can't lock me up like this! You haven't got the right!"

The Doctor looked bemused, to say the least.

"But you think you have the right to attack someone, unprovoked?"

Roberts looked indignant.

"Didn't attack anyone _unprovoked_. We were defending ourselves."

"Against what?"

"Against a couple of filthy faggots having a grope. We're good, God-fearing blokes, and they offended our sensibilities. We were defending our moral rights."

The Doctor huffed in surprise and amusement.

"That's amazing. Utterly incredible, that is."

"What is?"

"That you're able to pronounce any words with more than two syllables."

Still hidden in the shadows, Jack snorted with laughter, drawing Roberts' attention to his presence.

"Who's that? Who the fuck are you? Why don't you come out where I can see you, you chicken shit bastard?"

It was the invitation that Jack had been waiting for. He all-but strolled forward, the epitome of nonchalance, and with a gleam in his eye as he waited for realisation to dawn. It didn't take long.

"No way," Roberts whispered. His eyes had grown impossibly wide, and his knuckles were white where he gripped the edge of the table. "No, it's impossible! You can't be here, you just can't! You should be dead!"

"Guess you should've stayed to finish the job, then," Jack said with a sneer. Roberts shrank away from him as he approached.

"I want a lawyer," Roberts all-but squeaked. "You need to..."

His protest ended in a startled yelp when Jack slammed his fists down on the table, threatening to put two sizable dents in the metal surface.

"You're not getting one," Jack thundered. "So sit back and shut up!"

Roberts sat back with a thud, his eyes still comically wide as he stared up at Jack.

"H... How? You should be dead..."

"Perhaps you should have waited a little longer for the big reveal," the Doctor remarked dryly. "The poor fellow seems to be going into shock."

"My heart bleeds for him," Jack snorted. He leaned a little further forward across the table, taking great satisfaction in the way Roberts cringed away from him. "Are you scared, Ian? Well, good. Might give you a taste of how I felt. How _all_ of your victims felt, you sadistic son of a bitch."

"But they... th... I mean..."

Jack's expression darkened considerably.

"They what? Deserved it? Is that what you were going to say?"

Roberts shrank down in his seat, cringing away from Jack's palpable fury. He looked over at the Doctor, begging for help.

"You're not gonna let him threaten me like this, are you? What sort of cops are you people?"

Jack swung a little to the side, blocking Roberts' view of the Time Lord. The look in his eyes radiated menace.

"This is Torchwood, Ian. Remember, that 'poof party', as you and your buddies so eloquently put it? We're not cops. We're beyond the police. Not even the Government or the United Nations can touch us. The only person I defer to is the man standing right behind me, right now. And you don't exactly see him getting ready to jump to your defence, do you?"

"What the fuck do you want?" Robert asked in a voice that was tinged with more than just a hint of hysteria. "You want revenge? Is that it? Well, fuck you! I'm not sorry for what we did, you fucking faggot, and I hope you rot in hell because that's all you fucking deserve! You and that other little poof..."

Jack lunged towards Roberts, who uttered a very unmanly shriek and went crashing over backwards in his desperation to get away from the Captain. The only thing that kept him from attacking Roberts was the Doctor, who stayed Jack with just a single hand on his shoulder.

"Easy, Captain," the Doctor murmured, gently drawing him back and ushering him over to the far corner of the room. "Now, stay here, and try to calm down. It's my turn now."

Jack leaned back into the corner, vaguely aware that he was rubbing his wrists so furiously that they were starting to burn. He couldn't stop, though; afraid that if he did, he'd find his hands aching to close around Ian Roberts' throat and squeeze until the man was dead.

Confident that Jack's anger had been tempered for the time being, the Doctor returned his attention to Roberts, who was just picking himself up off the floor.

"All right there, Mr Roberts?" he asked in a deceptively friendly voice. Roberts scowled darkly in Jack's direction. Obviously, the Doctor mused, the man had decided that he was safe from physical attack, and was letting his arrogance surface once more. Poor, misguided fool.

"You ought to muzzle him. Filthy dog."

The Doctor took hold of Robert's arm, and hauled him up off the floor with an ease that had the other man yelping. He set him firmly back on the chair, but rather than stepping back, he leaned in over the top of the hapless man.

"Do not, now or ever, refer to him as a dog. Am I being clear, Mr Roberts?"

Roberts stared up at the Doctor with wide, terrified eyes as it finally began to sink in that he was not in an ordinary police interrogation, and there was no lawyer coming to bail him out of trouble.

"What are you going to do to me?"

A smile spread slowly over the Doctor's face. It seemed that their prisoner was finally ready to be cooperative.

"That, Mr Roberts, depends entirely on you."

Roberts' gaze flickered briefly to Jack, full of resentment.

"Are you going to let him kill me? Is that it?"

"Oh, I wouldn't say it wasn't tempting," the Doctor confessed. "After seeing what you did to him, I think I'd be justified in saying that death is no less than what you deserve… and not just for what you and your friends did to Captain Harkness, either. You've done this before to other men, haven't you? The only difference is that Jack here is the first to have survived."

The resentment practically radiated off the man in the prisoner's chair.

"Don't see how. Filthy bastard should've been dead."

"I'm resilient like that," Jack retorted. Roberts glanced at him briefly before dropping his gaze, no longer able to look the Doctor in the eye.

"We just did what it said in the Bible. We just did what God wanted us to do. You know, an eye for and eye, and all that? It says in the Bible to stone people like him!"

"It also says not to judge others, lest you be judged in return," the Doctor reminded him. "Or are you so certain of your own godliness that you felt you could overlook that little dictum?"

"It says so in the Bible," Roberts insisted. The Doctor huffed softly.

"I almost feel sorry for you. Tell me, if you truly believe yourself to be a Christian, do you really think that God would want you to torture and kill other men for what _you_ judge to be a sin, when He sent His own son to be tortured and killed as an absolution for all sins?"

Roberts' breath caught.

"It's wrong," he protested, although his protests were sounding less certain by the minute. "The Bible said it's wrong! Being gay is a sin!"

"I'm not so sure about that," the Doctor said coolly. "What I am sure about is that being a murderer is a sin. I'm positive that taking someone's life is a far worse offence than loving someone who happens to be the same gender as you. And there's also… Mr Roberts, you're married, aren't you?"

Roberts automatically rubbed his fingers over the plain gold wedding band on his finger.

"Yeah. So? What about them?"

"Well, I was just thinking that while we're talking about sinning, you can add adultery to your own personal list of transgressions."

"What?" Roberts burst out. "Bullshit! I've never cheated on my wife!"

"The definition of adultery, Mr Roberts, is to have sex with someone who is not your wife or your partner. Considering what you participated in, I think we can safely say you're guilty."

Standing back, Jack watched with growing satisfaction as the Doctor deftly used the man's own religious beliefs to systematically condemn him. It was a far more satisfying experience than if the Doctor had simply stood back and let Jack tear him apart.

"What do you want from me?" Roberts asked again, sounding torn between anger and panic. "Are you trying to scare me by saying how my wife and kid'll have to get by while I do time? Well, forget it. They'll do just fine until I get out. Now, I want to see a lawyer, you son of a bitch!"

The Doctor shook his head and chuckled humourlessly, and when he spoke his tone was positively glacial.

"Mr Roberts, you haven't been listening. You won't be going to a normal prison, and there'll be no minimum time or early release with good behaviour. You won't even be getting a trial. No, you and your friends are going to be transported to a UNIT facility, and you'll be locked away there for the rest of your lives. You made your biggest and last mistake when you attacked Jack Harkness. You see, he's very special to me, and I'm very protective of those I care about."

"Who the fuck are you, then?" Roberts demanded. "Just another fucking faggot…"

Even though Jack was unable to see the Doctor's face from where he was standing, he had a pretty good idea of what expression was on it, and there mere thought sent a chill of fear down his spine. As he watched, the Doctor stood up straight and stared down at Roberts, radiating all the power and authority of his being.

"I'm the Doctor. I'm nine hundred years old and I'm the last of the Time Lords from the planet Gallifrey. I saw the birth of this world in the middle of a billion ancient stars, and I witnessed its end five billion years from now. I've seen mankind grow from infancy, until it was ready to reach out across the stars. I've battled Daleks, Cybermen, and even the devil himself. I destroyed two entire races to stop a war that would have destroyed the universe, so don't think for a second that I won't end you to protect a man that I love. You don't get a trial. You don't get a second chance. You will be handed over to UNIT, and you will never see natural daylight again for the rest of your life. You _will_ acknowledge that I've been merciful, because believe me when I tell you that there are far worse fates that I could have condemned you to."

Roberts looked from the Doctor to Jack with terror in his eyes. It was clear that he no longer knew which man to attention his pleadings to.

"You... You're really going to just make us disappear? What about our families?"

"What about the families of the men you killed?" Jack asked in an admirably calm voice. "You didn't think twice about killing them."

"But they were faggots!" Roberts protested. "They didn't have wives or babies..."

"They had mothers and fathers, other family and friends. Why should we give your family any consideration now when you didn't give them the same?"

The Doctor glanced back at Jack, frowning just slightly, but Jack gave a slight shake of his heads. He knew what he was doing, that gesture said. Nodding slightly in acquiescence, the Doctor gave Jack free reign.

"You can't, though," Roberts pled with him hoarsely. "Please, you can't just make us disappear..."

"Oh, but I can," Jack told him, taking a grim pleasure in the man's panic and desperation, "but I won't." He pulled a chair out and sat down opposite Roberts. "I'll make you a deal, Roberts. You tell us what we want to know, and we'll tell your family that you're dead."

Roberts went white, and then red with anger.

"What? What sort of a fucking deal is that?"

"The kind where they get a nice, fat pay-out as compensation for the tragic accident that sadly killed you and a half dozen of your buddies. They get to mourn you, and then they get to move on. Your wife and child will remember you with love, and not as the sadistic monster that you really are."

The look in Roberts' eyes was wild. He was right on the cusp of a complete breakdown. Jack knew it would take very little to push him over the edge. He wanted to. Oh, how he wanted to give that son of a bitch that little extra shove, and watch him go toppling over that proverbial abyss.

"Who are you?" Roberts asked in a hoarse whisper.

"I'm the one you should have walked away from," Jack answered soberly, with none of his earlier aggression. All of a sudden, he was so tired and all he wanted was to get out of there and find a private corner where he and Ianto could cuddle for a while.

"You'll really give my family money?" Roberts asked finally. Both Jack and the Doctor could see the defeat in his eyes as he began to realise he had no way out.

"Enough to start over fresh," Jack promised. Roberts' shoulders slumped.

"What do you want to know?"

"There was one other man there that night," Jack said. "Someone in addition to you clowns that we nabbed tonight, and not the kid that you killed. I want to know who he is, and where to find him. He was the only one of you who didn't rape me, but he was definitely calling the shots. Who is he?"

Roberts froze. Both Jack and the Doctor could see the fresh panic on his face, and the Doctor made a soft noise of understanding.

"I think our one missing assailant is the one who made the decision to attack you, Jack. In fact, I'd say he's the one who called the shots for every attack. Am I right, Mr Roberts?"

"This place you're going to send us to," Robert said in a voice that trembled slightly. "Is it regular prison cells? Or solitary?"

"You mean, do the prisoners mix?" Jack wondered. "No. They don't."

"Okay, then."

"You're scared of him," Jack realised with a touch of bitter amusement, but Roberts was quick to protest.

"No! I just... I mean..."

"You mean you want to know you'll be safe if he finds out that you blabbed," Jack said matter-of-factly, and Roberts promptly deflated. Jack leaned in close.

"I give you my word. He will never be able to touch you."

Roberts glared sullenly at Jack.

"Sure. Coming from you? That means squat."

"My word is the best guarantee you've got. Think about it, Roberts. Do you think I'd be willing to let you off the hook that easily? I wanted to kill every single one of you before, but the truth is that knowing you'll be locked up for the rest of your lives is a hell of a lot more satisfying."

"Son of a bitch," Roberts whispered, but by then all the fight had gone from him.

"Who is he?" Jack asked again, and he did so a new realisation hit. Here he was, sitting face to face with one of the men who had brutally attacked him, and he no longer felt afraid. He sat tall, with renewed confidence, whilst his attacker cowered pathetically in front of him.

For the first time since the attack, Jack started to truly believe that he could move on, and put what had happened behind him.

"Who is he?" Jack asked again. He barely spoke in more than a whisper, but the authority in his voice was absolute.

"His name is Bryan Webber," Roberts confirmed finally, miserably. "He was tending the bar that night. It was him that picked you." He glanced bitterly at the Doctor. "You were right. He called the shots. Every time, he chose the bloke we were to go after. Chris would go in first, do his thing, and if the target showed any sort of interest, then we'd take him out. It was all good until we went after you."

Jack smiled distantly, but there was no humour in it. His thoughts were far away by then, and he was barely aware of what Roberts was saying. Sitting back slowly, Jack's breath quickened a little. He only had vague memories of the barkeep. He'd been so wrapped up in his own misery that he couldn't recall what the man actually looked like, except for an impression of a big man, heavily built. He couldn't picture the man's face at all.

"Jack?" the Doctor asked gently, and Jack jolted back to reality with a start. He looked around, blinking in confusion. The room was empty, except for the Doctor and himself. Roberts was gone.

"You've been sitting here staring into space for nearly fifteen minutes now," the Doctor told him by way of explanation. "Ianto came and got Mr Roberts almost ten minutes ago."

"Sorry," Jack mumbled, starting up from the chair. "Got a little distracted, I guess."

"It's all right," the Doctor reassured him. He laid a hand lightly on Jack's shoulder, and favoured him with a smile. "You did so well, Jack. I'm proud of you. You had ample opportunities and provocation to harm Roberts, but you didn't."

"It wasn't because I didn't want to," Jack admitted bitterly. "So don't think I was being noble. Because I did want to hurt him. I wanted to hurt him a _lot_."

The Doctor moved in closer and gently pulled his unresisting friend in for a hug.

"You're still bigger on the inside."

Jack slumped against the Time Lord, and uttered a sob a that was muffled by the Doctor's shoulder.

"It feels like this has been going on for years. Hard to believe it only happened less than two weeks ago."

"Time always slows down when you're suffering," the Doctor mused. "That's a phenomenon that even the Time Lords couldn't explain. You are coming out the other side of it now, though, Jack. I promise you, that light at the end of the tunnel is _not_ an oncoming train. Now, c'mon. Let's go back upstairs. We have the information we need. We'll let UNIT deal with Webber, along with the rest of them. It's time for you to start moving forward again."

He half expected Jack to argue, and was relieved when he didn't.

"I know," Jack murmured. "I know it is, and I want to…"

"But…?"

"I need to see him," Jack confessed almost guiltily. "I know you're going to say it was a bad idea, but I want to be there when UNIT takes Webber. I have to see it with my own eyes."

"You're right," the Doctor agreed. "I'm not so sure that it is a good idea, but I can also understand your point of view. You need closure, and you're entitled to have it." He ushered Jack from the room, quietly grateful that Jack was allowing contact with flinching. "I'll speak to our good friend, General Winton, and tell him what we need him to do."

Jack slowed to a halt on the short flight of stairs.

"Doctor, thankyou."

The Time Lord regarded his former companion sadly.

"For what, Jack?"

"For supporting me, even thought you didn't agree with me. That means a lot, having your support."

"Well…" the Doctor said, drawing the word out like he was stretching a piece of taffy, "it was high time that I stopped running, and looked back every now and then. You deserve the support, Jack. You've always been one of my most faithful companions, even when you had every reason to hate me. I promise you now, when this is over, I'll make a greater effort to be here when you need me. I won't abandon you again."

For a moment, Jack was speechless and it was a struggle for him to control his emotions. Then a new voice spoke and the spell was broken.

"As charming as this all is, do I have to remind you that you're in a damp stairwell a hundred metres beneath Cardiff? If you two want to get all sappy with each other, then do us all a favour; grab the tea boy and go somewhere so the rest of us don't need to worry about losing our lunches."

"Got yourself a real charmer in this one, haven't you?" the Doctor retorted as he and Jack followed Owen back upstairs. Jack smile wearily.

"I wouldn't want him any other way."

* * *

"You're really going to fake their deaths?" Kathy wondered incredulously when Jack and the Doctor finally emerged. "How can you possibly get away with that?"

"You ought to know by now not to ask that question," Jack told her with dry humour. He paused just inside the room to look around, and soon spotted the object of his interest on the other side of the Hub, talking into his mobile phone.

"Go and talk to him," the Doctor encouraged Jack. "I'll contact UNIT and tell them what we need them to do."

Jack looked at him sharply.

"You won't forget what I said?"

"No. Now, go on. Go and let him know you're all right."

Pacified, Jack went to join Ianto.

* * *

"…Yes, we will. Okay, thankyou. Bye."

Ianto ended the call just as Jack approached.

"Everything okay?" Jack asked cautiously, and felt a surge of relief when the young man smiled warmly at him.

"Everything's fine, cariad. That was Da. Mam told him to call and tell us that we're expected tomorrow evening for a belated Christmas dinner and celebration."

Jack swallowed convulsively, unsure that he'd heard correctly.

"We…?"

"Yes, Jack. _We_. Da talked to Mam, and apparently I'm in for a right bollocking for not being up-front about having a boyfriend."

Slowly, as Ianto's words sank in, the tension began to bleed out of Jack's body and a wry smile crept onto his face.

"Really? So… they're all okay with it?"

"Mam and Tad are," Ianto admitted sheepishly. That's really all that matters. And yes, I know. I'm a right fool. You don't have to say it."

The words were said with self-deprecating humour, but beyond that Jack could see a familiar guilt rearing its ugly head. Deciding enough was enough, Jack stepped in before he could think twice and kissed Ianto lingeringly on the mouth.

He could sense Ianto's astonishment in the few seconds it took the Welshman to respond. Then, Ianto was returning the kiss and for just a few precious moments it was just the two of them and absolutely nothing else mattered.

Ianto's tongue stroked his oh-so-lightly, and Ianto's hands rested gently on his hips. For the first time since the attack, Jack accepted contact that was more than comfort, and felt no desire to flee from it. He felt a tightening sensation in his stomach and groin, and it took him a few seconds to realise that it was not nausea that was assailing him, but arousal.

Jack sighed into the kiss, relishing his lover's familiar taste before reluctantly withdrawing. Finally, he felt he as though he might be able to take it further, but it was neither the time nor the place. Instead, he rested his forehead against Ianto's, and smiled faintly.

"I forgive you, Yan. I really do. You people and your silly little hang-ups…"

Aware that they were being watched, and not caring in the slightest, Ianto drew Jack fully into his embrace.

"Thankyou, Jack. I…"

Jack kissed him again, smothering the words.

"Some things should stay between us," he murmured. "I want to say it to you, too, but not here. Not now. Not with an audience."

Ianto smiled, touched.

"All right. Until later, then."

Kissing Ianto again tenderly, and quietly relishing that he could do so without experiencing any anxiety, Jack then withdrew and favoured his young lover with a smile.

"Tomorrow, dinner with your mum and dad. Tonight, we catch our last piranha."

* * *

_to be continued...._


	30. A Final Confrontation

To say that General Winton was unimpressed with the Doctor's demands was the mother of all understatements. In fact, the Doctor was sure that he'd not heard such colourful language since he'd had Ace as a companion. He sat patiently through the other man's tirade, though, before responding.

"Are you done yet, General? Because there is rather a lot to organise, and we intend on finding the last of Captain Harkness's assailants tonight."

"_Doctor, if you think I'm going to commit UNIT resources to detaining a handful of riffraff who, in my opinion, probably did the planet a favour by taking Captain Harkness down off his pedestal, then you're as deluded as he is!_"

A chill of anger swept through the Doctor, and when he spoke again it was with a deliberate and terrifying calm.

"I am going to pretend that I never heard you say that, General. I'm going to hang up and begin to organise this operation at this end with the Torchwood team, and you _will_ do as I've instructed. There _will_ be a UNIT transport here by this evening with soldiers to assist us, and then to escort the prisoners when it's done. You will secure them and they will _never_ be released. Is that clear enough for you, General? Or do I need to go over your head?"

Winton snorted, but he suddenly sounded less certain of himself and his own authority than he might perhaps have wanted the Doctor to believe.

"_There is no higher authority in British UNIT than me, Doctor. Your threats are pointless_."

"Oh, I don't know about that," the Doctor answered, suddenly sounding entirely too cheery for the General's liking. "You know Brigadier Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart, I presume?"

There was a split second delay in the General's reply that put a wide grin on the Doctor's face.

"_I know of him_…"

"Yes, well, he's quite a good friend of mine, and I do believe that even retired as he now is, he still holds quite a lot of clout with UNIT. Doesn't he?"

By then, Winton was starting to look distinctly green over the video connection.

"_I suppose he does. But even so_…"

"And then there's Her Majesty. She carries a fair amount of influence as well, if I'm not mistaken."

That brought out a stronger reaction.

"_Now you're barking up the wrong tree, Doctor. Her Majesty has no more liking for Jack Harkness than I do_."

"I think you might find that her sympathies have shifted somewhat, General. Especially after what Captain Harkness endured on the Valiant during the Saxon incident."

Silence met his words, and then, "_Why, Doctor? Why do you even care? The man runs Torchwood, for God's sake! You know what Torchwood did. You were there!_"

"I know for a fact that Jack Harkness is nothing like Yvonne Hartman, or any of her predecessors."

"_How? How can you be so sure of that?_"

The Doctor hesitated for only a moment before answering.

"Because Jack Harkness used to be my companion."

The silence on the other end of the line was palpable, and the Doctor couldn't help but wonder whether perhaps he'd made a mistake in divulging that bit of information.

"_Harkness travelled with you?_"

The General's voice was suddenly subdued, and the Doctor strongly suspected that he knew what was going through the other man's mind.

In amongst the copious files UNIT had compiled on the Doctor, there was the iron-clad edict that the companions of the Doctor were to be treated with the utmost respect. He knew from the Brigadier that it was something that was drummed into the heads of all UNIT employees right around the world.

Hearing now that Jack fell into that elite category had to be one hell of a slap in the face to the General's arrogance.

"_Doctor_…" Winton sounded exasperated, and perhaps just a little bit frightened. "_Why didn't you say that sooner? Why wait until now?_"

"Because, General, Jack deserves respect in his own right, and not just because I was fortunate enough to have crossed paths with him and have him as my companion for too-short a time. He's a good man and he did not deserve what happened to him on Christmas Eve. I'm asking you now to help us deal with the men who hurt him. Please, help us."

It took only a moment for Winton to respond in a subdued voice.

"_A UNIT strike-force and prisoner transport will be in Cardiff in ninety minutes, Doctor, as per your request. It will be your jurisdiction, but I would like to accompany you, if that is acceptable._"

"Any particular reason, General?"

"_Yes. I have amends of my own to make. I promise you, I have no intention of making the situation any harder for Captain Harkness. Not again._"

The Doctor smiled faintly. Really, there was no other choice to make.

"Very well, General. We'll see you in ninety minutes."

The Doctor ended the call just as Jack walked in. A bemused look filled the Doctor's face at the flush in Jack's cheeks, and the renewed sparkle in his eyes.

"Been saying hello to Ianto, Jack?"

Jack grinned, and the sight of it sent a surge of pleasure and relief through the Doctor.

"Just a quick hello. Time and a place, right, Doctor?"

The Doctor levered himself out of Jack's chair and stepped in close enough to kiss his former companion's cheeks tenderly.

"Once upon a time, maybe. Now, if you feel like it, just do it. Never mind me."

The wicked grin that spread across Jack's face sent the Doctor's hearts soaring with the hope that maybe his companion was finally starting to heal.

"You ought to be careful, Doctor. I might take you literally."

The Doctor snorted derisively, but his eyes sparkled with not-so-rare mischief.

"And make your young man jealous? Sorry to disappoint you, Jack, but I like this particular body. I'm not eager to see in my next regeneration yet."

Jack chuckled softly, and a warm and sincere smile filled his face.

"He knows I love him," Jack said. "And if he doesn't, he will before long."

Curiosity lit up the Doctor's eyes, but he didn't ask any further questions.

"All right, Captain. Let's go and plan this operation."

* * *

Ianto saw them coming. He was surprised, but only in that it had taken them so long to get their act together and come looking for him.

The conference that had taken place after Jack had emerged from his office with the Doctor had been understandably subdued in tone. When Jack and the Time Lord had outlined what was going to happen, any protests had been immediately stymied by a fierce look from the Doctor. Ianto himself had been completely silent. He'd not needed to be glared at. Though he felt a natural worry that Jack might be putting himself at risk, he nevertheless understood Jack's need for closure.

He gathered, from the posse that was approaching, that he and the Doctor were the only ones who did.

"Ianto, you have to talk him out of it."

Ianto lifted a single eyebrow at Gwen's blatant demand.

"No."

She blinked, as though she couldn't comprehend the flat brush-off she'd just received.

"What?"

"One word, Gwen. Two letters. Quite easy to understand, really."

She bristled visibly and Owen quickly took over. Ianto felt quietly amused once again by the way Owen appeared to have become the rational and conciliatory voice of the team.

"Look, can we at least agree that we all think this is a bad idea?"

"No, not all of us do," Ianto countered, and Owen uttered a frustrated growl.

"After what happened last night? Trust me, mate. It's a bad idea. The problem is, the only ones Jack will listen to are you and the Doctor, since the Doctor helped him to come up with the hair-brained plan, I guess it's up to you to make him see sense."

"Again," Ianto said soberly, "no."

"Didn't you see what happened last night?" Owen burst out. Ianto glared right back at him, refusing to back down. As much as he appreciated the care and consideration that Owen had shown towards Jack since the assault, this time he knew he was in the right.

"Yes. As a matter of fact, I did see what happened. I was there, remember? Look, I do understand what you're saying, and I do agree with you to an extent…"

"Then why won't you help us talk him out of it?" Gwen demanded to know.

"Because he needs to do it," Ianto said plainly.

"Bullshit!" Owen snarled. "He doesn't need to do it! He needs his bloody head read, that's what he needs. After last night…"

"Yes, let's talk about that, shall we?" Ianto snapped. "Because what I saw last night seems to differ from what the rest of you apparently saw. Last night, I saw Jack find his confidence and courage again. I saw him take down several men who had hurt him in unspeakable ways, but only wound them. I saw him display self-control and rational judgment. He could have killed all of them, and the truth is that none of us could have stopped him, not even the Doctor. But he didn't do that, and it was _his_ choice. Last night, I saw Jack refuse to buckle under the weight of his fear. That is what I saw, Owen. Tell me, what did you see?"

Owen gaped, at a momentary loss for words, and Ianto nodded in grin satisfaction.

"Exactly."

"Shit," Owen muttered. He looked around at Gwen and Toshiko ruefully. "He's right."

"Of course I am," Ianto retorted. "I'm always right."

It was intended as a sardonic comment, but it still prompted Owen to lift his eyebrows in mild incredulity. Ianto inclined his head in acknowledgement. Perhaps not _always _right…

"No," Gwen argued, oblivious to the silent exchange between Owen and Ianto. "He's not bloody right! He doesn't always know what's best for Jack. This is a mistake! He could get hurt…"

"Gwen," Ianto interrupted her quietly, "listen to me. I know you care about Jack, and that you don't want to see him get hurt again. I understand that. Jack does too, and he appreciates it, but the bottom line is that he's going to do it whether we like it or not, and whether we agree or not. Now, don't you think it would be easier for him if he knows we all support him?"

"Please," Tosh whispered, "let's not go turning this into another Abaddon."

They all winced at that unpleasant memory, and Owen spoke quickly, eager to move away from the subject.

"All right. We'll back him up. Of course we will. Never really any other option, was there?"

Ianto smiled. He made no effort to conceal his relief.

"No, there wasn't."

* * *

Jack's heart was in his throat. It was early evening, and he stood once more on the threshold of the place where his nightmare had begun. Owen was already inside, and had confirmed that their target was tending the bar. There was only half a dozen people inside – and easy enough number to manage if they ended up needing to retcon anyone.

General Winton had arrived as promised with a UNIT task force, prisoner transport and a quiet apology which Jack readily accepted. Winton and his men were now on standby, ready to move in at a moment's notice.

It left Jack with a feeling of bemusement. He hadn't thought that he would ever be able to trust UNIT again after that year, and yet here he was, doing just that.

He sucked in a long breath as the Doctor's voice sounded in his ear, telling to go ahead at any time. For a split second, Jack seriously considered bolting, but fortitude won out. Squaring his shoulders and hardening his expression, Jack walked back into the pub with his head held high.

On Christmas Eve, he had literally slunk into the place, overwhelmed by his own misery. Few had paid him any attention. Now, silence covered the entire pub like a blanket and all heads turned in his direction. Jack paid the other patrons no attention, though. His focus was on the man behind the bar, who was staring back at him with a look of sheer disbelief on his face.

Jack approached the bar, seating himself down immediately opposite Webber. Owen sat just a few stools over, doing a good job of looking like all he wanted to do was mind his own business. Webber, meanwhile, was staring at Jack as though he was a ghost.

"You look surprised to see me."

Webber's mouth opened and closed several times before he eventually regained both voice and composure.

"All of a sudden, I think I know what's happened to my boys. They're dead, aren't they?"

It took some effort for Jack not to recoil. He didn't recognise Webber's face, but he knew that voice. It was the voice that had given the order to gag him with barbed wire. It was that voice which had ordered the other men to rape him again and again. It was that voice which had given the consent for him to be carved up with a knife.

Struggling to move away from memories that would paralyse him, Jack focused on Webber's face. The other man had the barest hint of a smirk on his face. Just like a mongrel dog, Jack thought. He could smell fear. The comparison gave Jack strength, and he allowed himself to relax just a little.

"Now why would you think that?"

"I did some research, asked around. Found out a bit about Torchwood."

"Not quite the poof party you thought it was?" Jack asked. Webber sneered.

"I still think it's a fucking poof party. The things I heard about you, _Captain Jack Harkness_? I think we were doing this planet a favour. It's just a shame that we fucked up and didn't make sure you were dead." Webber's eyes raked over Jack's face and upper body. "Although, we messed you up pretty fucking good. Beats the shit out of me how you can possibly be standing here without a scratch on you."

"I'm a resilient guy," Jack said flatly.

"Uh huh. Sure you are. So... tell me, what did you do to my boys, if they're not dead?"

"They're locked up safely. Once we've secured you, you'll all be transported to the cosy little prison where you'll be spending the rest of your lives."

Webber only grinned, completely unperturbed by the threat.

"I don't think so. Even if this makes it to trial, I'm tipping I won't get more than a few years. Hell, one look at your pretty face, and my lawyer will have the jury believing the cops faked it all to nail me. That _you_ faked it. They'll never buy that we did anything to you."

Jack smiled tightly.

"Good thing then that you're never going to see the inside of a courtroom."

The smug grin on Webber's face faltered.

"What the fuck are you talking about? You fucking cops have to give me due process..."

"I'm not the police," Jack snapped. "I'm Torchwood, and you made your first and last mistake when you went after me."

Webber's face filled with hatred.

"That wasn't a mistake, you fucked up pervert. The mistake was not making sure you were dead! You deserved everything my boys did to you, and more. You and every other arse-fucking faggot in this city!" He glanced down fleetingly, and grinned nastily. "You might look like nothing happened, but I bet we managed to royally fuck with your head. You can still feel the barbed wire, can't you? Around your wrists and ankles, and in your mouth. I know I can still see all the pretty patterns it made on you. Did they give it to you good, you fucking candy arse? Was it just how you liked it?"

How Jack was able to ignore the taunts, he would never know. The rage that threatened to overwhelm him frightened him immensely, but he fought to contain it. Losing control and attacking Webber now would achieve nothing.

"I bet you want to know why I never touched you," Webber sneered. "Why I didn't dirty myself on you. I bet that's really eating away at you, isn't it?"

Jack raised an eyebrow bemusedly. Webber seemed eager to brag. He was almost begging Jack to ask. And all of a sudden, a sense of peace and satisfaction settled over Jack and he smiled.

"Nope."

Webber's smile faded once again.

"What?"

Jack leaned forward a little.

"No. I don't care. I don't want to know. I don't need to know. It doesn't interest me. It doesn't bother me. I don't give a damn. Pick whichever answer you like, Webber. I think they all mean more or less the same thing."

"But you're supposed to ask! Why aren't you asking?"

"Because I'm not giving you anymore power over me," Jack told him fiercely. "As far as I'm concerned, you can take your precious little secret with you to the grave."

Jack started to lean back, feeling a sense of fulfilment that he hadn't experienced for some time. He was just enough distracted that by the time he saw the knife in Webber's hand, it was too late to avoid it. He jerked backwards instinctively as the knife swung around, and felt a flash of pain across his left cheek. For a moment, his vision whited over and he reeled backwards into someone who had appeared behind him. When his vision cleared, the bar in front of him was empty. Webber was gone.

"Where'd he go?" he asked hoarsely.

"Never mind him," Owen's voice sounded in his ear. "Let UNIT and the Doctor deal with him. You're bleeding, Jack."

"I don't care!" Jack exploded, jerking away from Owen. "Where did he go?"

"Out the back way..."

Jack took off before Owen could finish his sentence.

* * *

"Shit!" Gwen burst out as they listened to the confrontation as it went awry.

"Language," the Doctor warned her idly.

"Sod that," she snapped. "It's happening just the same as last night. I knew this was a mistake!"

"Calm down, Miss Cooper," the Doctor advised her, though the expression on his face hinted at a deeper appreciation for her concern over Jack's welfare. "I assure you that neither Jack nor Mr Webber will be going very far. General Winton's men will see to that, and I doubt that young Mr Jones will be far behind them, either. Stop worrying, and let Jack deal with this in the way that's best for him."

Gwen conceded, if extremely reluctantly, and sank back into her seat next to Tosh to wait.

* * *

It wasn't the same as the previous night. That odd random thought kept rushing through Jack's mind as he ran after Webber. The previous night, he'd been driven by a rage that the Doctor had only barely placated. The rage was still there, but it was no longer a driving force behind his pursuit.

Webber had to be stopped, and Jack couldn't entirely bring himself to trust UNIT to do what had been agreed upon. As far as he was concerned, Winton had conceded far too easily, and he really didn't believe that being outed to UNIT as a former companion automatically afforded him UNIT's respect.

And that aside, Winton hated him far too much to have a believable change of heart now.

He burst out through the back door of the tavern and barely avoided slamming into his target, who had come to a complete stop just outside the doorway. There was no UNIT taskforce in sight, though. There was only General Winton.

"Robbie...?" Webber asked incredulously. "Fuck, is that you?"

"It's me," Winton confirmed soberly. "Hello, Bryan."

"You two know each other," Jack said flatly, with a sinking feeling deep in his gut. Winton nodded.

"Yes. We're cousins. Our mothers are sisters. I'm sorry I wasn't honest with you or the Doctor about that when I said I wanted to be here personally, but he would never have allowed it, had he known. Neither would you."

Jack glared at Winton.

"You back-stabbing bastard."

Webber began to laugh raucously.

"Well, this is fucking priceless. You thought you were going to lock me up, but you didn't know about this, did you? How about that, Robbie? We got one over on the fucking gay boy here!"

Winton sighed audibly and shook his head.

"Bryan, shut the hell up. You've dug yourself a deep enough grave as it is. No need to add to it now. I didn't come here to 'get one over' on anyone, especially not Captain Harkness. The only reason I'm here is to ensure that you don't get yourself killed. I can't save you from being locked away. In all honesty, even if I could, I wouldn't."

The smug grin faded quickly from Webber's face as his cousin's words sank in.

"What? Why not? For God's sake, Robbie, I'm your cousin! You can't choose him over me! Help me here!"

Winton again shook his head, and acknowledged Jack with a slight nod as the Captain edged around slowly to stand beside him.

"You did an unspeakable thing, Bryan, and apparently it's not the first time. I can't let you go free, and risk you continuing to hurt others."

Fury began to build in Webber's face, and his fist tightened around his knife.

"You ought to understand better than anyone why I have to!"

"I do understand why you _think_ you have to," Winton said. "That's why I'm going to personally ensure that you're looked after, but you can't be allowed to go free. Not after all that you've done."

"And you think you're enough to bring me down?" Webber sneered. "I can take the two of you on."

Winton reached up to touch the tiny Bluetooth device that sat against his ear.

"Lieutenant, if you please."

The sudden convergence of UNIT soldiers left Jack's head spinning. Within a matter of moments, Webber was almost completely surrounded. Only the door behind him, leading back into the tavern, was unchecked and even that was not the case for long.

Jack suppressed a satisfied smile as he spotted both Ianto and Owen emerging from the tavern and coming to stand immediately behind Webber, cutting off his last possible escape route. Webber was trapped, with nowhere to go.

"You bastard," he hissed at Winton. "You fucking faggot-loving bastard!"

"Stop it, Bryan," Winton snapped. "It's long past time that you let go of that anger. Your mother forgave your father for leaving with another man a long time ago. Don't you think it's about time you did, too?"

Webber responded with a howl of rage, and lunged at his cousin.

In the next instant, several things seemed to happen at once. Jack side-stepped, putting himself in between Webber and Winton. At the same instant, several weapons fired and Webber's body jerked convulsively as he went down.

Winton swore as Jack crumpled to the ground as well, hands clutching the hilt of a blade that was buried in his stomach.

"Harkness, you bloody fool," Winton growled as Owen and Ianto rushed over. "You didn't need to do that. I know how to defend myself against a damned knife attack."

"S'okay," Jack mumbled. He hesitated, tightened his grip on the hilt and pulled.

Everyone in the immediate proximity either winced, groaned or both as Jack pulled the knife out. It clattered to the ground from his numbed fingers, and was quickly scooped up into an evidence bag by a UNIT soldier.

"I didn't want him to do that," Winton insisted as Ianto lifted Jack's head onto his lap and Owen applied pressure to the wound.

"We believe you, General Winton," Ianto assured him, "but you need to understand, it's in Jack's nature to do that. It's all right, though. It's not a fatal wound. He should heal within a matter of minutes."

"He'll be fine," Owen said dismissively. "A little woozy from the blood loss, but that's about all." He looked up at Winton piercingly. "What you said about Webber's dad walking out with another bloke. Is that seriously what all this was about? Him taking it out on gay blokes just because he was pissed at his dad?"

"It's the basis of it," Winton confirmed. "There are psychological issues there, as well. Bryan hasn't been mentally sound for a long time. He was institutionalised when he was younger, but he's as smart as he is ill. He learnt what to say and how to act in order to convince the doctors that he was better, and they released him. Unfortunately, your captain and a number of other innocent men have paid the price for that mistake, and I am sorry."

"Not your fault," Jack mumbled. Winton crouched down and looked him in the eye.

"I'm apologising because Bryan never will. That, and I owe you a real apology for the way I've behaved towards you in the past. I also need to say thankyou."

Jack sighed, and made a vague motion with his hand.

"Go check on your cousin. If your boys are as good as their reputations suggest, he ought to still be alive."

Winton lifted his gaze to his lieutenant, and the other man answered with a confirming nod.

"Captain Harkness is correct, sir. Webber is alive. Flesh wounds only."

"Lucky bastard," Owen snarled, but Winton smiled grimly.

"Depends on your perspective, Dr Harper. Lieutenant, prepare Webber for transport immediately. He's to be flown directly to our Glasgow facility. Make sure he received adequate treatment for his wounds, and then I want him locked away in the most secure cell in that place."

"Yes, sir."

"And I will be checking to see that it's been done," Winton added. He then turned his attention back to Jack. "He'll never be allowed to go free, I promise you."

"Why?" Jack asked softly. "Why help me? He's your cousin, after all."

"He is, and I still care about it," Winton admitted. "But if you want to know the truth...?"

Jack nodded wordlessly, and Winton went on without further prompting.

"When the Doctor told me who it was that you wanted help to catch, I had every intention of coming here and helping him to escape. I'd intended on pretending to cooperate with you, and then setting him up somewhere new, with a completely new identity."

"What changed?" Jack asked with a hint of suspicion.

"Captain Harkness, when I was first informed of the fact that you'd been attacked, I didn't believe it to be serious, and I thought it would matter even if it was. I didn't actually know what had happened to you at all. When the Doctor contacted me today and I learnt that it was my cousin that you were after, I assumed you were simply overreacting to perhaps getting slapped around a little bit. Then, on the way here, my lieutenant managed to access your mainframe."

Jack grunted in annoyance.

"Tosh needs to bump up the security again. First the Doctor, and now UNIT. Seriously, it's like having someone read your private journal!"

Ianto coughed lightly.

"Pot, meet kettle."

Winton smiled wryly, even though he didn't understand what Ianto meant.

"Don't be too put out, Captain. It took him a week and a half to do it. But the point is, he found the files on what had really happened to you. I am sorry, Captain, and I am thoroughly ashamed that the ringleader was my own flesh and blood. After seeing those files, there was no way I could cover for him. What he did to you was pure evil, and all I can do is to guarantee that he will never have a chance to do it again."

"Good enough," Jack murmured. "Thankyou."

Winton cracked a smile.

"I still don't like you, Harkness, and I'm pretty sure that you don't like me, but maybe in the future we can at least try to be a little less antagonistic towards each other."

A grin briefly lit up Jack's face.

"We can try."

The two men shook hands, and Winton stood up.

"I'll see to the rest of the those prisoners, and we'll get out of your city, eh, Harkness?"

"Thankyou," Jack said again, sincerely. Winton nodded once in acknowledgement of all three men, and then strode quickly away.

"Well," Owen said, once the General was out of earshot, "there goes the 'UNIT are just a pack of self-important bastards' theory."

Jack grunted, but at the same time could not help smiling.

"They still are, with apparent exceptions."

He tried to shift positions, only to gasp a little in pain.

"Stay still," Ianto murmured. "There's no need to rush. Just let yourself heal."

"Gwen and Tosh," Jack protested, though he ceased trying to move. "They'll be worried."

He didn't include the Doctor in that statement, Ianto noted silently.

"They're on their way over here now," Owen answered. "Be prepared to be smothered."

"Shut it, Owen," Gwen growled as she and Tosh came through the tavern's rear door. "Is he okay?"

"He will be," Owen confirmed. "His coat gave him some protection against the knife. It didn't go as deep as it could have done."

"Son of a bitch ruined my coat again, though," Jack said shortly, lightly poking at the tear in the wool.

"I'll fix it for you," Ianto promised. "Just stop trying to move." He glanced up, and asked a question that he wasn't entirely sure that he wanted the answer to. "Where's the Doctor?"

In the moment that the women hesitated, Ianto's mind overloaded with possibilities, the worst of which was that the Time Lord had done one of his infamous disappearing tricks during the chaos. Granted, Jack was definitely improving, but for the Doctor to suddenly leave now...

"I'm right here," the Doctor announced as he strolled through the door, looking the epitome of casual. His eyes locked briefly with Ianto's, and the young Welshman felt the sharp twinge of guilt for assuming the worst. Then the moment was past, and the Doctor spoke in a deceptively cheerful voice.

"I just stopped to have a brief word with Mr Webber before they take him away. I also suggested to the General that they test him thoroughly. The unfortunate fellow completely lost control of his bladder."

The subtext was obvious. Whatever the Doctor had said to Webber, it had frightened the man so badly that he'd pissed himself. Looking entirely too innocent to be believable, the Doctor came over and crouched beside Jack.

"You didn't come running," Jack said, though there was nothing accusing in his tone. The Doctor smiled easily.

"Oh, you had it under control. I didn't really need to come running, did I?"

Jack relaxed, again easily reading the subtext of the Doctor's words. He hadn't needed to come running to Jack's aid. However, he would have done so in an instant if it had been needed.

"Thankyou," Jack murmured.

"You did it, Jack," the Doctor said sincerely. "You caught all of them and you showed restraint and good judgement. I am very proud of you."

"For not killing them?" Jack asked. The Doctor chuckled softly.

"No, Captain. For not letting a group of small-minded fools force you into changing who you are. I know I might say otherwise, but I don't ever want you to stop saying hello."

"Hello to who?" Gwen asked, voicing not only her confusion, but Tosh and Owen's as well. Ianto, however, nodded his agreement.

"Same. I don't ever want you to change. I don't care what anyone else thinks."

Jack smiled contentedly. Oh, he knew there would be plenty of times in the future when his flirtatious behaviour pissed Ianto off, but there would always be forgiveness. As far as Jack was concerned, that was all that mattered.

* * *

Jack smiled contentedly to himself as he entered the TARDIS behind the Doctor. The Time Lord had decided that it was time for him to go, and Jack reluctantly conceded. He'd gone with the Doctor back to the TARDIS to say goodbye privately, whilst Ianto and the others stayed behind in the Hub.

It was an enormous level of trust that Ianto was showing in him, and Jack was determined not to breach that trust.

He ran his fingers lightly over the controls, and his smile widened at the answering hum. Across the way, the Doctor smiled fondly.

"She's missed her captain."

Jack lifted an eyebrow and though he said nothing, the Doctor knew only too well what was going through his mind.

"That wasn't her," the Doctor admitted quietly of the Utopia debacle, and the TARDIS taking them all the way to the year One Hundred Trillion. "Well, not entirely. It was more her reacting to me, reacting to you. She would never have jumped to the end of the universe if I hadn't tried to run…" The Doctor trailed off, eyeing Jack critically. "But you already knew that, didn't you?"

"I didn't know for absolute certain," Jack told him, "but I did know that she didn't have the same prejudice against me that you did."

The surprise on the Doctor's face was palpable.

"Really? How?"

Jack looked away, and the expression on his face suggested strongly that he preferred not to talk about it. A moment later, the Doctor understood why.

"How do you think I stayed sane during that year? When I didn't know from one day to the next how much pain I'd have to endure, or whether I'd be allowed to die to end the agony? How I managed to keep a rational state of mind in order to keep him from getting bored with me and focusing instead on Martha's family? How I kept from just giving up?" Jack stroked the console reverently. "She was there with me, Doctor. Despite everything she was suffering, she still gave me comfort and helped me to keep going."

The Doctor looked around at his precious ship with entirely new appreciation and love.

"Bigger on the inside."

"Yeah," Jack agreed. "In every way."

"I am so sorry, Jack."

"No, don't," Jack begged him. "Don't apologise, please. I want to put it behind us, once and for all. Just promise me that you won't run away from me again."

"I won't, I promise. And I also promise to be there for you whenever possible."

"Thankyou. And thankyou for being here now. You could have just let UNIT come storming down here, but you didn't."

"I might have done," the Doctor confessed, "except that it was a little bit obvious how much Winton hated you. I had no intention of letting him loose on Torchwood until I knew what was really going on with you. They'll leave you alone now, Jack. You go on doing what it is that you do best."

Jack tried to smirk flirtatiously, found he couldn't quite pull it off, and settled instead for a lop-sided grin.

"You mean saying hello?"

"Don't be cheeky," the Doctor retorted. "You know what I mean."

Jack laughed softly.

"I know. Thankyou, Doctor."

Coming around the console, the Doctor reached out with obvious care and hugged his former companion.

"Take care, Jack, of both yourself and your team. And don't be afraid to let them take care of you, too. Especially that young man of yours."

"Will I see you again soon?" Jack asked as he began to retreat out the door. The Doctor grinned.

"I'm always around. Don't doubt we'll cross paths again before too long. But you have the number now to reach me. You can call, any time you like."

"I will," Jack promised. "Where are you headed now?"

"To London, actually," the Doctor admitted. "I'm going to check out that company, Adipose. Something definitely alien about them."

Jack snorted with laughter.

"They make fat-busting pills, Doctor. I was thinking of trying them out myself."

The Doctor levelled a warning look at Jack, and wagged his finger at him threateningly.

"Don't you dare. You don't need to, and you know it. Now go on, get. Ianto is waiting for you."

Tossing the Doctor a quick salute, Jack exited the TARDIS and stepped back to watch the time ship vanish. When it did, he spotted Ianto waiting across the way.

"I wasn't going to go with him," Jack said, a touch defensively as Ianto approached.

"I know," Ianto answered calmly. "I do trust you, Jack. I only came up here because I thought we could head straight home now, and get ready for tonight."

Nervous anticipation immediately flooded Jack.

"Good idea. But the Hub…"

"Is in good hands with Owen, Tosh and Gwen," Ianto assured him. "Tish is staying to help out, too. She makes a pretty decent cup of coffee, and Myfanwy seems to like her, as well. Everything's under control." He held a hand out to Jack, patient and undemanding. "Come home?"

Jack took the outstretched hand willingly, and let Ianto lead him to the garage.

* * *

"Feeling okay?" Ianto asked lightly once they were on their way.

"I think so," Jack answered. "It feels a little surreal, actually. We caught all of them, and they'll never be able to hurt anyone else again. I have to keep reminding myself of that."

"Nothing wrong with that. And if you like, I'm sure we can wrangle CCTV footage of them in their new accommodation."

A shudder wracked Jack's body, so violent that Ianto could feel the aftershock of it.

"No," Jack said, not unexpectedly. "I don't ever want to see them again."

"Okay," Ianto agreed simply. "Here we are, and with plenty of time to relax before we need to get ready."

Ianto waited, half-hoping for an innuendo from Jack about what they could do to fill in the time, but none was forthcoming. He was a little disappointed, but not entirely surprised. They headed inside, and Ianto felt a small touch of relief when Jack took his coat off without any prompting. Maybe any real degree of intimacy was still a long way off, but there were at least some visible signs of improvement. Two days ago, Ianto knew he would have need to practically peel the coat off him.

"Would you like to take a bath?" Ianto offered. "There's plenty of time. You could relax and have a good soak."

Jack hesitated.

"We could have one together… if you wanted to, that is?"

A broad smile broke out over Ianto's face.

"I'd love to."

"Just a bath," Jack blurted out, and his face promptly went flame red. "I'm sorry, I just don't think I'm ready for anything else. Not yet…"

Careful not to let any hint of disappointment through, Ianto reached out to stroke Jack's cheek lightly. He felt comforted that Jack leaned in to the touch, and not away from it.

"Just a bath, to relax. I promise I'll wait for you, Jack. We don't need to do anything that you're not ready for."

The relief on Jack's face was plain to see, but so was the shame and embarrassment. Anxious to divert Jack's attention to more positive things, Ianto ushered him into the bathroom.

* * *

"So everything's okay between you and the Doctor?" Ianto asked as he ran a bath for them both. Jack looked surprised by the question, but conceded and answered regardless.

"I think so. I know he won't run away from me again, at least. And he finally admitted that the TARDIS never tried to get away from me, either. That it was all him."

Ianto huffed.

"About bloody time."

"He _was_ surprised when I told him about what she did for me during that year."

Confusion filled Ianto's face, and Jack realised quickly with a sinking feeling that the younger man didn't know what he was talking about. With some small reluctance, he elaborated.

"She linked herself to my mind, Ianto. During that year, during the worst time, the TARDIS protected me, and kept me from going mad. Despite everything she was going through with the paradox machine, she still did everything she could for me. That's how I knew she didn't resent what I'd become."

"She save you," Ianto murmured, thinking with awe of the sentient ship, and of the way she'd sung to both Jack and himself when they'd spent the night safe within her walls.

"Yes, she did. And when I had to hurt her to destroy the paradox machine, she still didn't resent me."

Smiling gently, Ianto urged Jack towards the tub.

"C'mon, cariad. Let's have a bath together."

* * *

It was awkward to start with. They had not been in such close proximity whilst both naked since before the attack. Ianto had briefly considered the wisdom of bathers, but in the end decided against the suggestion. In the end, they settled into the generously sized tub with Ianto sitting behind Jack; and Jack settled as comfortably as possible between Ianto's legs, and leaning back against Ianto's chest. Ianto used a washcloth to gently wash Jack's shoulders, chest and arms. He took great care, though, not to touch Jack's still-sensitive wrists, or to let his hands drop below Jack's waist.

"It never gets any easier."

Ianto paused in washing Jack's back.

"What doesn't?"

"Dealing with the aftermath of being raped."

On the surface, Ianto could probably have been forgiven for thinking that Jack was talking about the recent assault. He was used to reading the subtext with Jack, though, and he easily guessed what it was that his lover wasn't saying.

"It's happened to you before, hasn't it?"

"Back when I was just a new recruit to the Time Agency," Jack admitted. "One of the instructors took a fancy to me. It was strictly forbidden for instructors to have sexual relationships with the trainees, but that didn't stop him. He kept hitting on me, and I kept brushing him off. Then one night, he turned up at my quarters. I was just a gangly kid back then. He was pushing nearly seven foot and had nearly fifty pounds on me. He also had me believing I'd be tossed out on my ear if I told anyone what he'd done. I never had a chance. He raped me at least once a week for nearly three months. It only stopped when another instructor walked in on us."

"I hope you weren't blamed for it," Ianto said in horror.

"No. Xavier tried to blame me. He said I'd seduced him. The guy who found us didn't buy it, though. He beat the living daylights out of Xavier, and made sure I was looked after properly. I owed him so much for everything he did for me."

An ugly feeling began to grow in Ianto's gut.

"You're not talking about John Hart, are you?"

Jack uttered a short, sharp bark of laughter.

"I don't think so! If John had been the one to find us, the bastard probably would have wanted to join in. No, this was someone else. David, his name was. He made sure I got the help I needed, and didn't let me down. You remind me a lot of David, Ianto."

Ianto blinked back tears, and briefly nuzzled Jack's shoulder.

"You said it never gets any easier."

"It doesn't," Jack confirmed, suddenly sounding bleak rather than wistful. "When I recovered, I thought I was stronger for it. That what Xavier did to me was horrific, but that it meant I could deal with it if it ever happened to me again. I was so wrong…"

Ianto felt the telltale tremors ripple through Jack's body, and held him loosely.

"Cariad, how long did it take you to get over what Xavier did to you? Generally speaking, I mean."

"Three and a half years," Jack admitted in a whisper. Ianto sighed sadly.

"And here it's been just two weeks. Not exactly giving yourself much leeway here, are you?"

"But I… You… I can't…"

"You will when you're ready," Ianto reassured him gently, fully aware that the conversation had slid sideways to another topic that had been more or less taboo since the attack. "I've already told you I'll wait for you. I wasn't lying when I said that, Jack."

Jack slumped back against Ianto, releasing the tension that he hadn't realised he was even holding onto.

"Just don't want to lose you," Jack said heavily. "Because I can't…"

"You won't," Ianto answered. "I promise you won't. I'm not going to quit on you. Can you believe that?"

Jack barely hesitated before he answered, and felt the last vestiges of doubt slip away.

"Yeah. I can."

* * *

_to be continued..._


	31. Epilogue: Acceptance

A/N: We are finally at the last chapter, and I can mark this story complete. Not all angst is done with, but there is much unashamed fluffiness in this chapter. Enjoy.

* * *

For the second time in as many days, Jack found himself standing on the threshold of unfamiliar territory, trying with little success to control his nerves. There were no dangerous criminals to be found through this door, but in many ways Jack found the prospect of what lay beyond infinitely more terrifying. It didn't help that Ianto was in much the same state of unease. Right at that moment, his biggest comfort lay in the way that Ianto was gripping his hand.

Before either man had a chance to gather their courage and ring the bell, the front door opened to reveal a middle-aged woman that Jack was fairly certain was too young to be Ianto's mother.

"Rhiannon…?" Ianto squeaked in alarm. The woman glowered at Ianto.

"You are in _so_ much trouble. How come you never told me you'd gone bender?"

"Rhi!" Ianto burst out, mortified.

"Oh, come here, you silly git."

And Jack watched in amusement as Ianto was dragged into a ferocious hug. When she finally let him go and turned an appraising look on Jack, the immortal man found he had to make a conscious effort not to hide behind his lover.

"Well, I can see where this one would turn your head. You sure he doesn't swing both ways?"

Jack smiled crookedly, and felt a rush of relief when he felt Ianto's hand close around his once more.

"Well, actually…"

"He's all mine," Ianto stated categorically, "and I don't share."

"Possessive, aren't you?" Rhiannon said with a grin. "Come in, both of you. Mam and Tad are in the living room with Johnny. They're all waiting."

Ianto rolled his eyes and led Jack after Rhiannon, and the look on his face suggested to Jack that he was hoping fiercely that she was his only sibling to be there.

A momentary and slightly awkward silence fell when they walked in, but Geraint quickly broke it and crossed the room, firstly to hug his son and then to shake Jack's hand.

"Ianto," Meredith Jones said as she came forward, "won't you introduce your boyfriend properly?"

The ease with which the word 'boyfriend' came out of her mouth had both of them wondering just how long she might have practised saying it in the last twenty-four hours. Ianto smiled at her, grateful for the perceived effort.

"Mam, I'd like to introduce Captain Jack Harkness. Jack, this is my mother, Meredith Jones, my sister Rhiannon and her husband, Johnny. Rhi and Johnny have two kids… Where are David and Misca, by the way?"

"Staying with my parents," Johnny explained. "Don't worry, though. They want to meet Uncle Jack as soon as possible."

Ianto rolled his eyes, and chose not to comment. His introduction was followed by a chorus of 'pleased to meet you', and then the inevitable question about Jack's title.

"Military man?" Geraint wondered, asking the question that he hadn't had a mind to ask the last time he'd seen them.

"Air Force," Jack answered. "I served in Afghanistan and Iraq before receiving an honourable discharge."

It was true, Jack conceded, except take out the 'Afghanistan and Iraq' part, and insert 'World War I' and 'World War II'.

Geraint nodded understandingly, and Jack had a quiet suspicion that his estimation just went up several notches in the other man's eyes. A glance at Ianto confirmed it. The younger man looked intensely relieved not just at that, but also at the simple acceptance of Jack from his mother, sister and brother in-law. It was a relief that Jack shared considerably.

Once formal introductions were out of the way, Meredith bade them all sit, and then brought out eggnog and sweet biscuits from the kitchen.

"How are you both doing?" Geraint asked in a deceptively casual tone once Meredith finally sat. Jack and Ianto exchanged glances, and Jack gave a slight nod.

"We're doing okay," Ianto confirmed, and his careful choice of words assured Jack that he was quietly conscious that Rhiannon and Johnny didn't know any of the details of what had happened, and nor did he care to broadcast it to them. Geraint, for his part, seemed satisfied with the short and somewhat vague answer.

"Good to know," the elder Jones murmured.

"Dinner will be ready in about fifteen minutes," Meredith announced abruptly, changing the subject so abruptly that almost gave them whiplash. "I hope you boys are hungry."

Rhiannon snorted before either Jack or Ianto had a chance to answer.

"Even if you are, you'll still be going home with enough leftovers to last you until Easter."

Jack smiled at Meredith.

"I'd count myself lucky. It smells amazing."

It did, too. Jack had caught the tantalising aromas even before entering the house, and now he resorted to sipping the eggnog in order to hide the fact that his mouth was watering.

"When was the last time you had a home-cooked meal, Jack?" Meredith asked. To his quiet mortification, Jack realised that was a question that he couldn't answer. Meredith shot Ianto a sharp look.

"You're not looking after yourself, and you're not looking after your man. You know how to cook, Ianto Jones. I taught you myself."

Ianto felt fairly sure that his face couldn't possibly get any redder, but then this was his mother. Anything was possible. On the other hand, the sight of Jack staring at his mother with borderline hero-worship made any degree of discomfort worth tolerating.

"Our work doesn't often allow for home-cooked meals, Mrs Jones," Jack offered in defence of his lover, but the formidable woman was having none of it.

"Nonsense. If you boys won't make the time to cook proper meals for yourself, then I'll just have to do it for you. I'm happy to cook in bulk, and you can just store the food in your freezer."

"Mam, my freezer isn't big enough for that…" Ianto protested, only to be cut off by Jack.

"We'll get a bigger one. Thankyou, Mrs Jones. The truth is, we've gotten a little used to take-away."

"Then you can get unused to it." She stood up. "Jack, would you care to help me in the kitchen?"

Jack was on his feet in an instant, following Meredith out of the room. Ianto watched them go, and turned back just in time to catch his father, sister and brother in-law erupting in good-natured laughter.

"It isn't funny," Ianto said snippily. Johnny bellowed with laughter.

"Yeah, it is. The look on your face! It's priceless!"

"Mind you," Rhiannon added, "I'm still going to have a piece of you later. Did you seriously think any of us were going to disown you, just because you're with a bloke? You silly git, like it's any of our business what you do in your own bedroom!"

"Wait until you have to explain it to Misca and David," Ianto retorted, but Rhiannon only snorted in derision.

"Don't be daft. Misca's best friend has two mums. They're not going to care that Uncle Ianto has a boyfriend instead of a girlfriend."

"And suddenly, I feel like a complete twat all over again," Ianto muttered, and winced when Rhiannon thumped him on the arm.

"So you should." She paused, her expression sobering. "Mind you, you might want to be careful around Alwyn for a while. He wasn't so receptive. No matter, though. So tell us about Jack. How'd you meet him?"

Slowly, the knot in Ianto's stomach began to undo itself. He could handle one potentially unreceptive sibling, knowing that the rest of his family supported him.

"I met him after Lisa died." It was technically true. He'd long since accepted that the woman he'd loved had died at Canary Wharf. "He was there for me. He helped me through it when no one else seemed to want anything to do with me." That was literally true. Tosh, Owen and Gwen had all stayed well away from him during his suspension, but Jack had spent time with him every day, helping him to work through his anger and grief. He'd gotten through Ianto's defences simply by caring.

"You need each other."

The simple statement came from Geraint, and Ianto didn't hesitate to answer with a nod.

"Yes, we do. Thank you for trying to understand that. Thank you for helping Mam to understand."

Geraint laughed.

"Do you really think I have any influence over what your mother thinks? When I got home that night and told her, she wanted me to take her straight back to your place so that she could make you understand that she didn't care. She had a piece of me for thinking that she might! We both underestimated her, son, and I pity the first person at church who makes a derogatory joke or comment about gays where she can hear them. Honestly, Ianto, she loves you. She just wants you to be happy."

"And now I feel worse," Ianto muttered.

"Don't, Ianto," Geraint warned him lightly. "Don't waste time on self-pity. We forgive you, and unless I'm mistaken, so does Jack. Accept it, and move on."

Meredith called out, then, summoning them to the dining room and giving Ianto no time to dwell. He followed his family, his father's words lingering in his mind.

* * *

"I admit, I had an ulterior motive in asking you to help me, Jack," Meredith said as she led Jack into the kitchen. The immortal faltered, and when Meredith looked back, the expression on his face was one step shy of panic. Realising how her words might have been interpreted, she stepped over and gently grasped his hands.

"Calm down, sweetheart. I don't mean that in a bad way. I'm happy that you and my little boy have found each other, I really am. I would never ask you to leave him, or vice versa."

Slowly, the fright faded from Jack's eyes.

"Sorry," he murmured. "It's just, after everything Ianto said, and after what Mr Jones said when Ianto told him the truth..."

Meredith huffed in annoyance.

"I'm afraid the men in this family tend to lack basic common sense. When Geraint told me how he'd reacted, and what he'd said to you in particular, I wanted to slap him. He had no business saying we'd disown Ianto if you didn't leave him. Absolute rubbish. As for Ianto, he should know better than to presume to know my personal thoughts. I have never at any time told him that I won't accept gay men. If he'd bothered to ask, I would have told him one of the men in my reading group is gay, and has been with his partner for nearly ten years now. I have an invitation to their anniversary party, for heaven's sake! Now be a dear, and hold this dish for me so that I can get the vegetables out of the oven."

"I never blamed Ianto, Mrs Jones," Jack said, only to find himself cringing under her speculative gaze.

"You never blamed him for what, Jack? For leading you to believe that he didn't love you, or for what happened to you on Christmas Eve?"

Jack flinched again, this time for an entirely different reason. Regret filled Meredith's face.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I didn't mean to say that quite so bluntly. Yes, I do know the basics of what happened to you, going by what you and Ianto told Geraint. I suppose you know it's been on the local news, too?"

Jack nodded numbly, wondering how long it was going to stay in people's memories. The thought of going out in public and wondering whether a person knew the truth every time they looked at him was enough to turn his stomach. All of a sudden, self-enforced seclusion seemed like an extremely attractive idea. Not forever, of course, but maybe the next few decades...

"I wouldn't be too concerned about that, love," Meredith reassured him. "Most people don't remember what they saw on the news a week down the track. Always some new bit of gossip or scandal to focus on. My point, though, is that I can understand that you might feel angry towards Ianto. He does love you, though, and I think that you love him. Am I right?"

"Yes, Mrs Jones," Jack answered meekly. She glared at him in mock annoyance.

"Jack, honey, you can call me Meredith. You can call me Mam. I don't mind which, but stop calling me Mrs Jones!"

A wry smile filled Jack's face.

"Yes, Mam."

She smiled in return.

"Much better. Now, take those vegetables through and put them on the warming plate next to the meat, and then we'll call the others for dinner."

* * *

Jack barely knew where to begin. The last time that he'd been treated to such a feast had been before he'd met the Doctor and Rose.

He sat with his head politely bowed as Meredith said grace, and felt his throat constrict when she added a brief and sincere prayer 'for Jack, the newest member of the family'.

The Captain was still trying to decide where to start when a flash of bright red and green entered his line of sight. Confused, he turned to find Meredith holding a cracker towards him.

"Take the end," she instructed, unfazed by his confusion. "We both pull, and whoever ends up with the main part of the cracker wins. Go on."

Mildly embarrassed by his own ignorance – of course he knew what crackers were, he'd just never had the pleasure of breaking one open – Jack took the end that was extended towards him.

"Hold it near the base," Ianto told him. "It'll give you a better grip. I remember one year I pulled a cracker with Alwyn, and he only held the very end of it. His grip slipped and he toppled over backwards and cracked his head on the sideboard."

Mildly alarmed, Jack followed Ianto's advice and adjusted his grip, and when the cracker broke open, the greater half went to Jack.

"There you go, my love," Meredith enthused as a blue paper party hat tumbled out, followed by a small, colourfully wrapped, oddly shaped gift. Jack glanced at Ianto, who nodded with a warm smile.

"You won it, fair and square. Go ahead and open it. And don't worry. Next person you break a cracker with, just let them win, or give them the prize if you win."

Nodding his understanding, Jack opened the gift. Inside was a little magnifying glass. It wasn't a cheap one, either, Jack guessed, judging by the unexpected weight and the delicate yet strong metal frame. He looked up at Meredith and smiled.

"Thank you. You have no idea how useful this will actually be."

"Pure luck, sweetheart," Meredith said dismissively. "Be thankful you didn't get the cracker with the perfume in it."

Ianto snorted.

"No, that will probably be me."

Laughter filled the room, and continued on as the rest of the crackers were broken open. Despite his previous comment, Ianto didn't get the perfume. Johnny was the unfortunate recipient there, and he gladly traded Meredith for a pocket knife.

At one point, Ianto feared he might need to get Jack out of the room when Johnny opened the knife out and held it up so that the light glinted off the blade. Before it got to that point, though, Geraint gruffly told him to put it away before he did himself an injury.

The grin on Jack's face at the banter was more than enough to ease Ianto's worries, and encourage him to finally relax.

"Looks like Mam was right about the home-cooked meals," Rhiannon said with a laugh as Jack reached for a third helping. "You'd think you never get fed!"

Jack faltered, suddenly self-conscious, and Ianto shot a death glare at his sister.

"Leave him alone, Rhi. I seem to remember you getting sick last Christmas after four helpings of plum pudding."

Rhiannon stuck her tongue out at Ianto, prompting a similar response from him.

"Ignore the children, Jack," Geraint told him with an amused grin. "If you want more, don't be shy about it. Just make sure you save room for pudding."

Genuine delight lit up Jack's face.

"Plum pudding?"

"Of course," Meredith confirmed. "And then after we've had pudding, we'll have carols in the living room. Do you sing, Jack?"

"Just in the shower," Jack murmured.

"He does sing," Ianto put in, at the same time closing his hand over Jack's in reassurance. "He has a beautiful singing voice."

"Good," Meredith enthused. "We'll look forward to hearing it."

Jack shot a half-serious glare at Ianto, but it thinly masked a deeper affection and gratitude. Ianto smiled back, silently grateful for his parents' open acceptance of Jack.

* * *

By the time the meal was over, even Jack was full and it proved to be a rather slow progression to the living room.

"Good thing that Tosh, Owen and Gwen are looking after things tonight and tomorrow," Ianto teased lightly as they settled together on the couch not yet occupied. "You're not going to be running after weevils for at least the next twenty-four hours."

Jack smiled contentedly.

"So maybe I overindulged a little. Your mum is just such a damned good cook. We are definitely getting a bigger freezer."

When Ianto laughed, Jack pouted adorably.

"What? Now I won't have to feel jealous when Gwen brags about all the home-cooked meals she gets from Rhys."

"No," Ianto agreed. "You won't."

Throwing all remnants of caution to the wind, Ianto slipped his arms around Jack's waist and leaned in with intent to kiss. Jack pulled back a little, concern in his eyes and acutely conscious of multiple pairs of eyes watching them.

"Are you sure? I mean..."

"Jack, look up," Ianto murmured. Jack did so, and promptly uttered a short bark of laughter at the sight of a sprig of mistletoe hanging innocently above their heads.

"Mistletoe?"

"I think we've been set up," Ianto said with a low chuckle. A glance at the other two couples confirmed it. While Geraint and Johnny looked on with amused exasperation, there was a distinct gleam of anticipation in the women's eyes.

"Well, then," Jack said with a touch of sauciness that had long been missing from his voice, "we don't want to disappoint them, do we?"

He still hesitated, though, unsure whether Ianto was truly willing to indulge in any show of physical affection with his family looking on. His worries were assuaged when Ianto closed the distance between them, and their lips met in a prolonged and tender kiss.

"And about time, too!" Rhiannon declared. Meredith said nothing, but the indulgent and satisfied smile on her face spoke volumes.

"All right," Geraint said gruffly, though his eyes showed his amusement. "I think you've embarrassed them enough. Johnny, pass me that gift under the tree?"

Johnny snagged a very large, brightly wrapped parcel from under the Christmas tree. Geraint took it from him and turned to Jack.

"The original plan was to give you a bottle of whiskey. Standard gift for guests. Meredith and I talked about it, though, and you're not a guest, Jack. You're part of the family now, and your gift should reflect that. So with that in mind, Happy Christmas, lad."

Speechless but for a murmured thank you, Jack took the gift and promptly nearly dropped it at the unexpected weight.

"Heavy," he remarked with a nervous laugh.

"Well, you'll find a few things in there," Meredith confessed. When Jack made no move to open it, Ianto nudged him lightly.

"Go on, open it."

Jack began to pick at the taped edges, deliberately putting a hold on his enthusiasm in his determination to put his best behaviour on show for Ianto and his family. It wasn't easy nor, apparently, was it necessary.

"Bloody hell," Johnny bellowed with laughter, "he's worse than my sister! Just rip it open, mate! You'll be here till midnight, otherwise."

Jack glanced at Meredith and she nodded encouragingly. Abandoning decorum, Jack tore the wrapping paper away to reveal the gifts underneath.

"Oh lord, you got one of Mam's knitted specialties," Rhiannon said with a laugh. "You really are part of the family now. She doesn't torture anyone else with those."

Jack lifted a brightly knitted blanket out of the top of the parcel. It was comfortingly thick and heavy in his hands, and he looked up at Meredith gratefully.

"I love it, Mam. Thank you."

Setting the blanket to one side, he delved further into the parcel, and an amused grin lit up his face at the sight of a whiskey bottle. Geraint shrugged unapologetically.

"Didn't see any reason not to give the whiskey. Only difference is, that's not the cheap stuff."

Jack chuckled, but his expression reflected his appreciation.

Nestled in beside the whiskey was a box which, when he opened it, revealed tiny silver airplane cufflinks. Jack's breath caught. His original pair had been lost, a small but personally significant casualty of that year, and he'd not been able to find a replacement pair. He looked at Ianto quizzically, and the younger man smiled sheepishly in return.

"Guilty," he confessed. "Well, me and Da. I told Da, and described them to him, and he found them... just this morning, wasn't it?"

Geraint nodded in confirmation, looking thoroughly pleased with his efforts.

"Right. They came from a little jeweller's shop just outside of Newport."

"Thank you," Jack murmured, touched by the generosity being shown to him. He set the box reverently on top of the blanket and turned to the last item in the parcel – a photo album.

"Now that last one is really for you both," Meredith told them. "Look inside. Go on."

Jack opened the album, and Ianto let out an embarrassed groan at the sight of himself as a newborn.

"Mam, you didn't..."

"I most certainly did," she retorted. "Photos make a home. I've seen your home. Not a single photo in sight. Jack, sweetheart, there are pictures in there to cover Ianto's childhood..."

"Ooh, are there naked bath photos in here?" Jack enthused. Ianto face-palmed himself as laughter erupted around the room. Meredith merely winked at Jack before continuing.

"As I was saying, there are photos in there to cover Ianto's childhood and up until he left home. I think I've managed to fill it a third of the way. The rest is for you boys to fill up." She shot Ianto a look that instantly silenced anything he'd intended to say, and then returned her attention to Jack. "Make your own memories, sweetheart. They help to make us who we are."

Setting the album aside, Jack abandoned the couch and all-but flung himself into Meredith's waiting arms.

"Thank you, Mam. Thank you..."

Meredith glanced at Ianto, slightly puzzled but also touched by Jack's emotional reaction. Something had broken through Jack's defences – whether it was the photo album, the gifts in general, or the fact that they had welcomed him openly into the family, she didn't know. She suspected she might never know the truth, and nor did it really matter.

Jack detached himself of his own volition and returned to Ianto's side, accepting another soft kiss from his lover without a second thought. Meredith smiled indulgently at them, and then made her way to the piano for carols.

* * *

Jack sang along with an enthusiasm that he hadn't truly felt since long before that year, and found himself on the brink of tears more than once. It wasn't strictly the words of the songs. He came from a time where all religion, as humans currently knew it, was just a footnote in the ancient history books.

What got to him was the realisation that he'd been welcomed into Ianto's family. Meredith and Rhiannon's delighted smiles in his direction; Johnny's friendly ribbing and Geraint's satisfied smile; Ianto's arm around his waist in a comforting gesture – all of it gave him the sense of belonging that he'd been craving.

It broke his heart, knowing that he would have them in his life for such a short time, but that was not a care that he wanted to burden anyone with right then, let alone himself.

Carols were followed by more eggnog and chocolate cake, until even Jack had to say enough. Rhiannon and Johnny left around midnight, finally leaving Jack and Ianto alone with Geraint and Meredith.

"Now," Meredith said firmly, "there's going to be a family get-together next month. Work permitting, I'll expect to see you boys there."

"Yes, Mam," Ianto agreed with a wry smile. Clearly not satisfied with just one confirmation, she looked at Jack.

"We'll be there," Jack promised. "Work permitting."

Meredith nodded in satisfaction.

"Good." She regarded them both seriously, but also with affection. "We know life hasn't been easy for either of you, and that silly mistakes have been made. That's all in the past. This is now, and now we're a family. All of us, together, and family doesn't exclude. Am I making myself clear?"

"Yes, Mam," Jack answered for them both. She stood up and approached them, and leaned down to place a kiss on each of their foreheads.

"Good. I'll have no more mix-ups and misunderstandings. I admit it's going to take us time to fully accept your relationship, and I hope you boys will both forgive us if we say or do the wrong thing. We won't live in denial, though, and we won't reject you."

Ianto clutched Jack's hand in his and looked up at his mother with a grateful smile.

"Thank you, Mam. We won't let you down, either."

* * *

They got home shortly after two, exhausted but satisfied. No words were spoken. Jack disappeared into the bedroom with his gifts, and Ianto let him go. He instead retreated to the bathroom, trusting that Jack was okay after what had essentially been a very emotional evening.

Ordinarily, Ianto would have expected Jack to pounce on him the moment they were inside the flat, but not so tonight. He couldn't help but wonder how long it might take before Jack was ready to have sex again. He'd wait. However long it took, Ianto knew he would wait. Even if it meant wanking himself off in private for the next however many months... or even years... then so be it.

Hands alighted on his waist, startling him back to the present, and he blinked in muzzy surprise as Jack's chin came to rest lightly on his shoulder.

"I called out to you four times," Jack murmured. "You were a million miles away."

"Sorry," Ianto murmured. He relished the close contact and was loathed to say anything that might cause Jack to leave his current position.

"I was waiting for you," Jack murmured, planting a soft kiss at the junction of Ianto's neck and shoulder. Ianto shut his eyes but his pleasure was short-lived, changing abruptly to unease when he felt Jack's hands sliding suggestively down his stomach towards his groin.

"Jack, what are you doing?"

Jack's hands stilled their movement, pausing just above the waistband of his jeans.

"You don't want me to...?"

Ianto turned in Jack's arms.

"Yes, I do. Very much so. I just don't want you to try to do anything you're not ready for."

Anxiety flickered across Jack's face, but his hands didn't move from Ianto's abdomen.

"I want to, I swear it..."

Ianto pushed his hips forward slightly, and the motion only confirmed what he already suspected. Jack's cock was flaccid; he couldn't feel even the beginnings of an erection. He also didn't miss the tiny flinch that went through Jack at the suggestive move.

"Jack," Ianto said quietly, "look at me."

Slowly, Jack raised his eyes to meet Ianto's. Ianto kissed him softly, and drew him into a protective hug.

"I want you, too, but I can wait. You're not ready, and we both know it."

Jack shuddered lightly against him, and Ianto felt immense relief when, instead of pulling away, Jack enveloped him in a hug.

"C'mon," Ianto murmured. He ushered Jack back into the bedroom and urged him to sit. "Talk to me, Jack. What was that about? We talked this over already, not even twelve hours ago! I thought we'd sorted it out?"

"It doesn't feel right," Jack admitted miserably. "I don't feel right. I don't feel like me, and I hate it! I ought to be able to strip us both and fuck you right through the goddamn mattress, and I hate it that I can't! I know you said you'd wait, and I love you for that, but part of me can't help thinking that... maybe..."

"That I won't wait?" Ianto asked softly when Jack couldn't finish the sentence. Jack stared at him, suddenly wild-eyed.

"I need you to take me. Just do me, right now."

Ianto looked alarmed as Jack flung himself spread-eagled on the bed.

"Jack, for god's sake..."

"Please," Jack begged. "Do it. Do me! Show me that it can still feel good."

Ianto moved slowly to lie down on the bed beside Jack. He reached out to rest his hand lightly on Jack's stomach, and was unsurprised when Jack flinched violently at the gentle touch. He kept his hand there, but made no other attempt to touch his distraught lover.

"Jack, it doesn't work like that. You can't heal by having sex. If I try to make love to you now, it's only going to make it worse for you, and I think you know that. When the time's right, it will happen, and it'll be good for us both, but not now."

In the dim light of the room, Ianto could see the tears rolling unchecked down Jack's face. They'd had such a good time that evening. What on earth had gone wrong between leaving his parent's place, and now? He didn't need to ask, in the end. Jack began to talk without needing to be prompted.

"I didn't have time to think about it before now," Jack admitted hoarsely.

"Think about what? Sex?"

"About that," Jack said. "About us. About everything. But mostly about me. I'm from the fifty-first century, Ianto. Sex is as natural as breathing, but I can't get past this. I want you. I want you so bad that it hurts, but my heart, my head and my body...? They're all saying different things." He laughed suddenly, and Ianto winced at the harsh sound. "I always knew I was kinda screwed up, but this really takes the cake."

"Not screwed up," Ianto argued quietly. "Jack, can you answer me honestly?"

"I'll try."

"What really bothers you? Is it the sex? Or is it that you're frightened to give up control?"

Jack went very quiet. Ianto watched him patiently, waiting for a response.

"I lost control that night," Jack said finally, in a tone that suggested he was only just coming to that realisation. "Everything that they did to me, I had no control over any of it. Even when I was on the Valiant, I had some control over it, over what was going on, because it was my choice to stay. They took my control away. I am scared to lose control again, Ianto. I don't want anything to take that away from me again."

Those last words were spoken with a touch of wonder, born of new understanding.

"They won't," Ianto promised. "I won't. Jack, do you remember our first time together? Do you remember how nervous and scared I was?"

A faint smile quirked Jack's lips; not mocking, but of fond remembrance.

"I remember. And considering it was you that propositioned me..."

"There was a big difference between propositioning you, and actually having sex," Ianto said bluntly, and Jack chuckled softly. It was a sound that Ianto welcomed, despite it still sounding a little strained.

"Sorry," Jack apologised.

"Don't be. My point is, do you remember what we did together? Before we tried anything else? Do you remember what you let me do to take away some of that fear that I had?"

From the slow smile that spread over Jack's face, Ianto knew he did remember. Leaning in, Ianto kissed Jack softly and chastely on the mouth.

"You be in control. Do whatever you like, whatever you feel comfortable with. It can be as little or as much as you want. You're in charge."

Jack stared wonderingly at Ianto. The younger man had struck on what he needed with frightening accuracy.

"What did I do to deserve you?" he asked softly. Ianto smiled sadly.

"That question goes both ways, Jack."

With breath that quickened with a mixture of nerves and anticipation, Jack traded places with Ianto. While Jack knelt on the side of the bed, Ianto divested himself of his shirt, jeans and boxers, and lay down. Still clothed himself, Jack reached out with a tentative hand to Ianto's chest. Ianto shut his eyes and lay there in placid compliance, determined that Jack should have complete control.

He was under no illusion that it would go any further than this borderline innocent touching, but it was an encouraging start.

Jack's fingers brushed lightly over his nipples and try as he might, Ianto could not suppress the sigh of pleasure that escaped his lips.

"I let you do this nearly all night," Jack murmured as the memories began to filter back. "You propositioned me, but when it came to it, you were one step short of terrified. So I stripped off and lay there while you explored me. I let you explore me, let you get comfortable with me. We never even came that first night. We ended up just cuddling naked together."

"You never pressured me," Ianto reminded him. "I loved you so much for that. You made it clear right from the start that I could have gotten up and walked away if I'd wanted to, and you wouldn't have tried to stop me." Ianto looked up at Jack with utter sincerity in his gaze. "No pressure, cariad. Don't be afraid that I'll walk away from you just because you're not ready. You didn't do that to me, and I won't do it to you."

Ianto could see the last of the tension and fear bleed out of Jack's body at the sincere promise. He said nothing at first, but quietly stripped himself and climbed into bed with Ianto.

"I'm not ready," he admitted finally as he and Ianto wrapped around each other in a comforting tangle. "I want to, but I'm just not ready."

"Okay, then," Ianto said, grateful that Jack had found the courage to admit it openly. "Let's just cuddle, then, all right?"

"All right," Jack agreed. He buried his face in Ianto's shoulder, placing a soft, chaste kiss on the warm flesh. "Love you. Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being willing to fix your mistake. For letting me be a part of your family. For loving me back. Thank you."

Ianto shut his eyes and settled down to sleep with his lover.

"You're welcome."

* * *

_Fin._


End file.
